Could Be Anything
by Liz Sherman
Summary: BurkeAddison Addison has left Seattle for Los Angeles and Burke realizes that he misses her.
1. I Certainly Hope That You Are Happy

**A/N: A Burke/Addison fic. You have Great Gomerel (read all of her stuff, it's amazing) to thank for my new summer project. Main Title and Chapter Titles come from "Could Be Anything" by The Eames Era (played on Episode 1.04 of Grey's Anatomy)**

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Preston Burke kept himself busy. He did not want to think about the wedding, or the lack thereof. He did not want to think about Cristina alone in their – her apartment and the mess she must be making. He was against wallowing on principle. It was something that he did not do and he despised it in others. And that was one of the reasons he had distanced himself from Derek. Derek was almost impossible to deal with once Meredith had left him. Burke wasn't sure of the specifics and Derek didn't venture to share them.

He was relieved about that, not used to being the one that people came to for solace or advice. It's not that he wasn't a good listener. He was an excellent listener. He just didn't know what to do after the listening. And so he didn't bother with being the shoulder to cry on. And it worked for him. It kept him professional.

The thing about distancing himself from Derek had left him virtually friendless. No longer did Derek stop to share small talk with him, or jokingly compete about their specialties. And it wasn't until Derek had reverted to calling him Burke that Preston had realized that he had lost one of his few friends. Which got him thinking. And made him realize how much he missed the red-haired surgeon who had moved to Los Angeles.

He did miss her. She had been wry and clever, bringing a smile to his face in a way that few people were able to. She had immediately placed herself as his equal, as his peer, even as his friend. From the start she had acted as though they had known each other for quite some time. She hadn't been trying to compete with him the way Derek had. When she had come into his life, he hadn't been sure what he thought. He thought that adultery was something that was not to be tolerated and was set to dislike her. But then he heard rumors from the nurses that she had stuck up for Meredith Grey, even though she didn't have to. And he decided that he might have to reassess his opinion of her. He was a fair man, after all.

It surprised him that he missed Addison Montgomery but that he did not miss Derek Shepherd. Once he realized that he missed Addison, it lessened the pain of missing Cristina because he wasn't missing her constantly. Thinking about them often caused him to shake his head in bemusement. The two women were such opposites. Addison had been the friend that Cristina had never been able to be.

A month ago, if you had asked Preston Burke where he thought he would be now, he would have answered that he would most likely be Chief of Surgery at Seattle Grace Hospital and married to Cristina Yang. He would be close to achieving all of his life goals, and he would have been content with life. He had been sure that was the course his life was going to take.

He had not imagined that he would break off his relationship with Cristina at the moment she was ready to walk down the aisle. He hadn't even allowed the idea that he might not be Chief to enter his mind. And now he realized that his life was missing something and he was far from content.

The lack of friends was part of it, that was true. He remembered his bachelor party, and had known that the only person he really wanted to invite was Derek and that Derek had asked Mark Sloan, a man that Burke rarely talked to and occasionally even avoided, and Addison Montgomery, who, being a woman, had no place at a bachelor's party. But the four attendings sat around a table, drinking the night away, momentarily putting aside the race for Chief and all their personal conflicts in order to give Burke the send-off into marriage that he deserved. Burke was normally a quiet, reserved man, but he had enjoyed the company of the three other surgeons. Addison, Derek, and Mark had entertained him with stories of the Montgomery-Shepherd wedding and New York, without any trace of remorse or sadness. Derek had jokingly whispered wedding night advice. Mark had offered to be his wing man for the night, so that he could get laid once last time before he didn't have a chance to sleep with a woman other than Cristina again. Addison had been the one to make sure he wasn't nervous, to make sure that everything would be ready at the church. Together, the three of them acted as one cohesive Best Man, each fulfilling a different role.

The day after his wedding, Addison had found him sitting quietly in one of the empty hallways on the third floor. She had offered him her hand, and he grasped it, allowing her to help him up.

"Come with me. There's always something that never fails to make me feel better on days like this."

And Burke knew that she knew how he felt. The uncertainty about the decision that had been made, how difficult it became to function in such close proximity with a person you had known so intimately before, but who now you barely seemed to know at all. To have the entire hospital look at you with confusion tinged with dislike. Addison knew what all that was like, and he trusted her to know a way to take the edge off.

She had led him to the maternity ward. "Babies," was all she said and leaned her head against the glass. "You know, someone once told me that you can have the worst crap in the world happen to you. You can get over it."

"How do you get over it?" Burke had been sure he knew only one person who would use the word 'crap' in a sentence that way and it intrigued him that such depth could come from Alex Karev.

"You gotta survive," she had said softly. Burke saw that there was a hint of sadness in her eyes and wanted to understand why. He instinctively reached out to touch her shoulder, give her some kind of reassurance. A small smile came to her mouth and she turned to look at him. "Babies are comforting. I don't know why, except maybe their innocence. And their natural adorableness, of course."

"Well, they aren't all adorable," Burke answered, wanting to bring a smile to her face again. "Some are actually quite unattractive. I don't want to name names, but third row, two cribs in." He was rewarded with a chuckle.

"I don't know if I should tell you at this particular moment in time, but the babies might help soften the blow. I'm moving to Los Angeles in about a week." Addison's smile was gone and she had looked worried, not wanting to see his reaction. "I know you have a lot going on, and I couldn't be sorrier that I am springing this news on you in the midst of it all, but I feel like you'd rather know now than be caught by surprise when I suddenly am no longer at Seattle Grace. And so I'm using the time when I am supposed to be making _you _feel better to get this off my chest, and I couldn't feel more guilty and now I'm rambling at you and this is probably _so_ not what you need right now. So I'll…just…stop." She looked surprised when Burke laughed.

"I'm glad you told me," he said and the surprise left her face and was replaced with a relieved expression. "It means a great deal to me that you wanted to tell me in person instead of having me find out from the Chief after you had already gone."

And he had been grateful that she'd told him. He had driven her to the airport with Callie and given her a hug good-bye. And it was now, weeks later, that he realized he missed her.

He went up to the maternity ward, but it wasn't quite the same without the woman who had shown him the comforting power of babies in the first place. He watched the nurses go in and out, writing down stats and pointing out babies to their happy parents. All that was on his mind, though, was his conversation with Addison.

"_Do you miss her?" she had asked, breaking the silence that had held since she had charmingly blathered on about leaving._

_He had paused, speaking slowly. "I miss having someone in my apartment when I come home. I miss knowing that I will have company for breakfast. I miss being bemused by whatever preconceived notion she had about relationships. I miss all the things she was to me. So, yes. I miss her."_

_She had stepped closer to him, and lightly squeezed his hand with her own. "Missing her must be hard."_

That was all she had said, but it had been enough because she had understood and hadn't tried to talk him through it or say anything to make him feel better. She had turned back to the babies and they stood in silence until her pager sounded and she shot him an apologetic smile as she walked away.

He missed having someone to talk to at the hospital. He missed knowing that he would be greeted with a smile when he came to work. He missed being amazed by her compassion. He missed all the ways she showed her friendship. So, yes. He missed her.

To be continued...

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**I'm curious to know what you think and I most definitely hope you enjoyed the first chapter.**


	2. Underneath A Cloudless Sun

**A/N: This is the hardest time that I've ever had writing Addison. My only thought is that it's because she's in Los Angeles and we know so very little about that. On a different note, I'm hoping to update at least weekly, and this week, it was good to have an excuse to take a break from studying and packing. So anyway, I feel like this is different than other things I've written, and I'm not sure why. So I'm anxious to hear your thoughts.**

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With all of Naomi's talk of an empty office and the impeccable weather that she had experienced on her visit to Los Angeles, Addison had forgotten that it rained everywhere. But didn't moving from Seattle merit her at least a few days of nice weather before plunging her back into the weather that she had come to despise? 

Sometimes Addison missed Seattle. She would get into a nostalgic funk that lasted until Naomi, Sam, or Pete took her out drinking. They wouldn't remind her why she left, but they would remind her why she came, choosing to leave the more upsetting memories in the past. Violet would offer some free advice in a way that only psychiatrists could and Cooper compared his sad state of affairs to hers in order to cheer her up. "All in all, you don't have it so bad," he'd say after going into a detailed account of his latest romantic failure.

In this way, Addison survived the first few weeks in Los Angeles, settling into a groove, learning the curves. She liked the pace of the practice, getting to know each patient more personally than the ones that came in and out of Seattle Grace. She liked being more involved and being half friend, half doctor. It's what was expected of her in these situations. Instead of simply being the aloof doctor that swooped in at the last second to save the day, she got to be the person who counseled them through tough decisions, knowing they trusted her not just because of her credentials but because, in part, she had earned it.

Living in Los Angeles had rebuilt some of the self-esteem that she had lost in her short stay in Seattle. The presence of people who had known her for a long time and still wanted to be her friend was a much needed change from Seattle where the only people she had known were ex-boyfriends. She enjoyed not having the predetermined persona of the adulterous bitch or McHot. She was simply Addison Forbes Montgomery, respected OB/GYN and Neonatal specialist. Not that that was all that simple.

Addison kept her past life separate from her present one. She occasionally fielded questions about life in Washington, but for the most part she kept mum. She reasoned that you wouldn't share your horrible, scarring memories with people you didn't know all that well, so why should she tell her coworkers? Naomi and Sam knew a little bit, but they were some of her oldest friends and they had demanded an explanation from her. What had made her make the sudden jump from laughing off any offers to join the practice to calling one morning, practically begging to come down to Los Angeles?

She had offered a weak answer that mentioned something about just needed a change of scenery, but the Bennetts had been quick to see through that, and so she had detailed her meeting with the Chief and some of her sordid romantic exploits.

Naomi had scoffed and told Addison flat out that she should stay in Seattle, that none of those things were worth leaving for, that she "wasn't the Addison I remember." Addison had been a little shamed, but more indignant. She had responded to Naomi's jabs by reminding her that she was the one who had first brought up the idea of the empty office.

Sam had been quieter, just nodding when she had finished and telling her, "Of course you can join the practice." She appreciated his calm sympathy and willingness to give her this new opportunity.

So she had packed up her belongings, said good-byes to the few people that deserved them and had made a necessary change. It was like the Chief had said: "You either need a new job or you need a new life." And that's what she had done.

A few weeks into her new life, Addison's cell phone rang and while she didn't recognize the number, she recognized the Seattle area code. She tentatively answered it, unsure if she wanted to let herself back into the world of Seattle Grace. She was almost certain that this call was coming from someone involved in that soap opera world. There was really no one else in Seattle that she knew. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end sounded relieved. "Addison. Hello. You know, for someone I consider a friend, you don't call nearly enough."

She recognized the voice and smiled. "Preston! It's good to hear from you." She made no apology for not calling. In all honesty, she wasn't. Seattle Grace was something she wasn't sure she wanted to have ties with anymore. While she _had_ lived in that world of drama and intrigue, it was so far removed from her life now.

"How is Los Angeles treating you?" His voice was pleasant, happy even, for a man who had left his fiancé at the altar less than a month before.

"It's raining. And don't tell me that it's sunny in Seattle or I will hang up this phone." Addison felt at ease talking to Preston Burke. He had always respected her talents and had never made her feel inferior, which would have been easy for him, considering the circumstances in which she entered his life.

"Well, I can _tell_ you that it's not sunny in Seattle…" he trailed off with a chuckle and Addison suppressed one of her own.

"So what's up, Preston? Is this just a friendly chat or did you have something in mind when you called?" She hated being harsh but if it was something to do with Mark or Derek, she just wasn't sure she wanted to have anything to do with it.

"This is strictly a friendly chat. I am calling to catch up with a friend that I have not heard from in several weeks."

"All right then." She felt slightly guilty, but thankful at the same time. "How have you been?"

She heard a pause on the other end and then, quietly, "Lonely."

Addison didn't know how to respond to that statement, so she stayed silent and waited for him to continue. Loneliness had summed up so much of her existence in Seattle that her heart ached slightly for him because she knew how he felt.

"I know you know how I feel. And perhaps that is why I decided to call you. In one form or another, you have been through what I have been through," he said finally.

"Except for the tremor. The tremor is something I never would have done in a million years. And I left. You stayed." She was making an attempt at humor, but sometimes that didn't translate over phone lines. Addison bit her lip, not sure if she had crossed a line or not.

"Yes. I stayed." His tone had become a little more distant, a little less friendly and Addison decided it was time for her to actually offer some help.

"Loneliness is…well, it's hard. I just…got used to it, I suppose. I accepted it. And acceptance is key. It never hurts as badly if you accept it. I knew I was going to feel lonely."

"And then you made a continental booty call." The humor was back in his voice, and it left Addison unsure of where she stood in this conversation.

"Well, yes. I did."

"You know that we all blame you for Mark, right?"

"I can't help it if I'm irresistible."

"No, I suppose you can't."

Addison was left flummoxed. She didn't know if he was complimenting her, or just going along with her sarcasm. She cleared her throat. "I, um, I should be getting to work," she said, even though she still had a good amount of time before anyone expected her to come in.

"Well then, I'll let you go. Have a good day and I hope the weather clears up for you."

"That is my hope also. Good-bye, Preston." Addison hung up the phone and sat still for several minutes trying to figure out what exactly had transpired.

Whatever had occurred, however, it didn't stop Addison from calling him the next morning. She hadn't realized that she had missed the cocky cardiothoracic surgeon until she had heard his voice through her phone. In all her missing of Seattle, she had allowed herself to only miss it generally, and hadn't let herself think of individuals that she missed.

It made sense that she would miss him. He understood the demands of her profession like no one else here. He had seen her at her absolute worst and hadn't left her. Instead she had left him, his marriage in shambles, and he still called her just to chat. Preston Burke was a good man and there was no denying that.

So she called him. And from then on they took turns calling each other. He learned about her life in Los Angeles, about Naomi, Sam, Pete, Violet, Cooper, and Dell. She was kept abreast of all the happenings at the hospital. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she did kind of miss the drama of the place and was glad to know what was happening without having to take any part in it herself.

Addison could see how Cristina had fallen in love with him. He was generous, caring, and committed. She saw his commitment through their friendship and she could only imagine what his dedication must be like in an actual relationship.

One day, she casually slipped into conversation the idea that he could drive or fly down to Los Angeles for a visit. "I know it rained the day of our first phone conversation, but I feel like the weather is good to visitors. Lulls you into a false sense of security."

He had declined, saying that things at the hospital were quite busy at the moment and Addison hadn't brought it up again.

In retrospect, she was almost glad he had declined. She didn't know if she wanted a Seattle person meeting the Los Angeles people. They knew completely different Addisons. In her usual Addison way, she made the best of the situation and moved on. She knew that it wasn't because he didn't want to see her that he wasn't coming. It was because of his demanding work schedule. Surgeons rarely got vacations.

Addison couldn't help thinking about Preston. The fact that they talked frequently kept him on her mind. She knew he was recovering from a serious relationship. She knew that his personal life was not in the best shape. But even knowing all this, she also knew that he had called her. She couldn't help thinking that perhaps he was looking for something more. And she knew that she was one to get her hopes up without cause but she couldn't help but hope that, just this once, there was reason to.

To be continued…

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**A/N again: First, I hate phone conversations. I avoid them as much as possible. Second, the ending of this took me so freakin' long. I would write things, and they would fit better in other parts of the chapter, or not in this chapter at all, and I just thought that maybe I would end with "And then Addison died" and have the rest of the fic be about Burke dealing with the grief. But I didn't.**

**Third, the only other thing I really have to say is that I occasionally read character bios at Wikipedia, and I was looking at the article on Private Practice and it lists the characters and their specialties. It was really amusing to me that all of the characters besides Addison have a one- or two-word description and Addison has a whole long list. That was your random PP related anecdote. Please continue with your lives. **


	3. Run Along

**A/N: So I lied when I said no updates until after the 5****th****. This turned out to be an excellent way to distress after two finals. Yep. Anyway, I think this is the first time I've given voice to any characters other than Alex, Addison and Burke. I tried to stay in character. If I failed, don't hesitate to tell me. Anyway, this chapter is back at Seattle Grace, all the usual suspects are present. Also, I did my best to figure out the residency timeline. And to come up with surgeries. I'm in no way an expert or anything remotely close, so bear with my mistakes in that area.**

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"Where's Burke?" Meredith whispered to Izzie, careful to say it out of Cristina's hearing. Izzie glanced back at Cristina and shrugged. Cristina was preoccupied with whatever new medical journal had just come out. She was underlining things as she walked. The doctors were grateful for her slow pace this once, if only so that they could talk about Burke 

All the new junior residents were walking around on eggshells around Cristina. The mention of Burke's name often caused her to snap and make biting commentary on whatever flaw she thought of first. The first time Meredith had made mention of him, her hair and her dirty scrubs had been viciously attacked, leaving her self esteem momentarily shattered.

"Dude, where's Burke? Wasn't there supposed to be a coronary artery bypass surgery today?" Alex scanned the surgical board as they walked past. He turned to look at Izzie and Meredith as he spoke.

"Maybe George knows." Meredith kept an eye on Cristina, and urged the other two along so that they could continue their conversation.

"Like George knows anything. Dude's still an intern," Alex snickered and Izzie hit him in the stomach. He pretended to grimace in pain and punched her shoulder in return. She responded with a smack across the back of his head, and he gave her a mock bow, letting her have the victory.

"Be nice. In all fairness, if anyone knows anything about Burke, it's gonna be George. He and Burke are friends," she said. And that was true. George was one of the few people Burke still spoke to with any frequency. He had distanced himself from much of the hospital staff after the wedding-that-wasn't.

"Meredith!" Cristina's voice cut through the conversation and the three slowed down, shooting each other looks that all clearly said, "Be quiet." She caught up to them and they all tried their best to not look guilty. Cristina stared at Izzie and Alex until they backed away and headed for two chairs nearby. They started whispering to each other and Cristina shot them a nasty look that was returned with equal spite by Alex.

"I'm so glad I'm not Meredith right now," Izzie said softly to Alex and they both stifled chuckles.

"Where's Burke?" Cristina asked quietly, bending towards Meredith to avoid being overheard. Meredith looked at Cristina, startled. Cristina had never been the one to bring up Burke before.

"I-I don't know. Maybe he took a vacation?"

Cristina scoffed. "Burke doesn't vacation. The last time he tried, he didn't even last the d…" She trailed off as she remembered the last time he had tried taking a vacation. They had been together; they had been a team. "He just doesn't vacation."

"Maybe he needed a day off. Why do you even care?"

"I don't. I don't care. I don't. Didn't Callie have an excision arthroplasty this morning?" Cristina began looking through the charts.

"I did, but it was rescheduled for later – Did you say Burke's gone?" Callie had come up behind them and grabbed a chart from the stack and handed it to Cristina. "Here. It's happening later in the day. You can scrub in if you want." She had been especially generous to Cristina since Burke had left her at the altar, allowing her to scrub in on more surgeries than she would normally have allowed one junior resident to scrub in on. She knew the pain of not being loved.

"Yeah, Burke's gone. We don't know where," Meredith answered to save Cristina.

Cristina had shut down any emotion she might have felt about the situation and practically snarled, "While you are all worrying about Burke, there are people that need surgery. There are people that need to be cut open and sewn back up. People! Focus!" Cristina shook her head at Meredith and Callie and walked away, studying the chart. Meredith's eyes widened in slight disbelief and she shot a glance to Callie who just looked slightly confused.

"Is she okay?" Callie cocked her head after Cristina. "I mean, I know she's not okay. She's never okay, she's Cristina. But I mean…is she okay?" Callie knew that most people wouldn't be okay after what had happened to Cristina, but Cristina wasn't most people.

"I'm not sure. She seems like Cristina, but she's always been good at hiding things. She's no worse than she was when Burke had a tremor, I guess. She keeps herself busy, but that could just be because she's a resident now. It's hard to say." Meredith knew Cristina better than anyone, but that didn't mean that she understood all of Cristina's moods or actions. For all she knew, Cristina could be planning to kill Burke in his sleep.

"Mmm," Callie hummed softly and went towards the surgical board to see what exactly her surgery had been rescheduled for.

Miranda Bailey was standing, tapping her foot as she looked up at the board. She looked up as Callie joined her. "Where's Burke's artery bypass?" Bailey had almost forgiven Callie for getting Chief Resident and was just starting to be civil again. Bailey's ego had been bruised by the Chief's decision in that matter, and Callie knew it. She had tried her best not to rub it in, but occasionally she did have to give Bailey orders and the hurt, angry look in Bailey's eyes made it hard.

"Burke's not here today. I thought if anyone would know, it'd be you. You seem to have your fingers on the pulse of this hospital." Callie was doing everything she could to get back into Bailey's good graces and Bailey knew it, smirking a little bit every time Callie gave her a compliment.

"He's not here? That man has not been able to voluntarily stay away from this hospital for more than a day. Hmph," Bailey looked up and down the board before writing her name in on a surgery being performed in a few hours.

"Bailey, Torres. Good board today?" Derek Shepherd joined their line, and looked up.

"Your tumor removal trumped my arthroplasty? You and your neurosurgeon ego. Of course whatever _you_ have to do is more important than what I have to do." Callie turned to Derek and sighed heavily.

Derek looked away sheepishly. He knew it was true, and so did everyone else. There was no use trying to deny it. But the brain was more important with bones. Obviously. Everyone else just needed to realize that.

"Do _you _know what has Preston Burke taking a day off?" Bailey asked him and he shrugged his shoulders. He really didn't have a relationship with Burke these days, having reverted to the formal nature of their relationship before the bomb incident.

"Burke took the day off?" Mark Sloan came up as Callie stalked off, no doubt to complain to someone about cocky surgeons who think that they are better than everyone else.

"So it would seem," Derek answered and Bailey nodded.

"Why?" Mark's incredulous tone seemed to imply that anyone who took a vacation from surgery was crazy, and that earned him a skeptical look from Derek. Everyone knew Mark tried to get as much vacation time as humanly possible. Mark just gave a characteristic Mark grin and looked at Bailey.

"If we knew that, do you think we'd be sitting around here talking about it?" Bailey grunted slightly. This was a prime example of the speed at which gossip flew around the hospital. She knew of no other place with such an efficient rumor mill. "Chief!" she called as Richard Weber walked past, looking through papers on his way to his office. He paused and looked back at the three doctors over his glasses.

"Yes?" he said, trying his best to sound very busy and important, as though this was an absolutely unwanted interruption. In all honesty, he was glad to have a reason to avoid paperwork.

"Where's Burke today?" Mark asked and the Chief glanced towards the plastic surgeon, seeming almost surprised that Mark cared and the reaction caused Bailey to cover up her chuckle with a cough.

"Burke? He asked for the week off. I couldn't say what he planned to do with all the free time."

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Preston Burke was driving along the I-5, windows rolled down and Eugene Foote tinkling from the car's speakers. He couldn't say exactly why he was going to Los Angeles, but he knew that he missed Addison enough that it was worth the trip. Even if it meant eighteen hours in a car.

In a dangerous move, he flipped open his cell phone and dialed her number. She picked up on the second ring, sounding genuinely glad to hear from him.

"I hope your offer of a visit to Los Angeles still stands," he said and he heard an intake of breath on the other end. She must have gathered herself quickly because she responded with a hasty, "Of course, Preston, of course it is."

"Good. Because I'm on my way now. And I'm expecting a warm meal when I get there."

"Well, unless you are planning on picking something up before you arrive, you shouldn't get your hopes up. I didn't have to cook for six months and I'm a little out of prac-Are you driving? Hang up this phone and concentrate on the road!"

Burke laughed as she hung up the phone, and set his cell on the passenger seat and turned up the music.

To be continued…

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**A/N Again: I hope you enjoyed Chapter Three. No promises when the next chapter will be up. I start work a week from today, but this will always be on my mind, never fear.**


	4. With Your New Change of Company

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I was hoping to get it up by Friday, but then Patricia (my computer) crashed and I had to reboot the system and the Geek Squad got involved, and so the long and short of it is that it took longer than expected to finish this. Anyway, much love to all the reviewers and I hope you enjoy it.**

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Addison didn't know how she felt about having someone else in her house, spending the night. She didn't know anything about how Preston behaved outside of the hospital. She thought that he would be an early riser and that he probably liked coffee in the morning. She didn't know a surgeon that didn't crave a hot cup of caffeine when they woke up. If she had to guess, she would say that he liked to read before he slept, and sometimes he even feel asleep with the light on. She was nervously thinking all these thoughts, sitting on the edge of the chair nearest the door, chewing on her lip, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

It was her cell phone that rang first and she heard Preston's frustrated voice from the other end. "Where the hell do you live, Addison?" he asked and she was thankful that he couldn't see her wide smile. Slowly, she guided him to her address, giving step by step instructions, and hung up when she heard the car pull into her driveway. She opened the door before he could knock and they stood awkwardly for a few moments until Addison moved in for a friendly hug. It ended as awkwardly as it had begun, each not sure how long it should last. Addison pulled away first, figuring that she had started it, so she should end it.

If Preston had had to guess how Addison's home looked, he would have been wrong. Judging merely on the way she dressed for work, he would have said that she valued form over function. But everything in the living room was picked for comfort. It looked nice too, of course, but comfort appeared to be the driving factor. She led him through the house to the guest room.

"You're the first person to use this room. I hope it suits your needs," she said, opening the door into a spacious room that had a door opening off to a bathroom on one side and a closet along the opposite wall. He assured her that it did. "I don't know how long you're planning to stay, but feel free to use anything and if you need anything more, just let me know. Did you want something to eat? You must be hungry after the long drive." Without waiting for an answer, she left the room, heading back towards the kitchen.

She was already tense and he hadn't been here for more than five minutes. She had begun pacing the kitchen when he walked in. "I'm actually not very hungry at all. I stopped for food along the way. You told me not to trust your cooking skills."

"Something to drink, then? I have water and…wine…assorted juices." Addison racked her brain for everything in her fridge.

"Wine sounds wonderful," he said.

Wine sounded wonderful to Addison as well. It was a mature and adult drink, something to remind her how to behave; remind her that she was not an awkward teenager on a first date. And this wasn't a date at all, anyway, that was for sure. She pulled out a bottle and filled two glasses, handing one to Preston. "This is from a winery here in Los Angeles. It's a family-owned company and they make wonderful wine. When I moved here, Naomi and Sam took it upon themselves to make sure I knew all the places to get good wine. We must have visited hundreds of wine shops and tried thousands of different types of wine. If I thought I had a refined palate before, it's ten times better than it was." She paused for breath and Preston took the opportunity to cut in.

"It's good wine, Addison. Really," he said as he took another sip from his glass. She smiled at him and took a drink from her own, thinking that this could be a long night. "So Naomi and Sam are fine?" he prompted her.

She nodded in response. "They all want to meet you, too. You'll probably have to come in to work tomorrow and be introduced to everyone."

"That sounds fine. I'd be interested to see how things are done in Los Angeles and what was enough to get you to leave Seattle Grace." It was true. He knew that there were other factors in her decision to leave, but he also knew that she wouldn't have left if there weren't things for her to do here.

Addison avoided Preston's gaze at that comment. She knew that he knew some of the reasons why she left, but she thought that she would avoid telling him long stories about her barrenness and Alex Karev. Tonight, anyway. "Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. There's always something happening there."

"So have you had any interesting cases? I know you told me about the kid who had about a hundred parents, but have you had anything to rival the quintuplets or separating fetal blood vessels?"

"First of all, it was six parents. And secondly, I live, breathe, and sleep vaginas. We have to have other things to talk about. Like the interns? How are they? And Bailey and Callie?"

"You haven't talked to anyone? Did you completely sever ties with everyone?" He looked at her with disbelief and Addison felt a rush of embarrassment. She didn't talk to anyone from Seattle and sometimes she did feel badly about that, but for the most part she put it out of her mind. She looked away and took another sip of wine. Preston cleared his throat. "They are quite well. Bailey is still recovering from the surprise of not being made Chief Resident. Callie is doing her best to be tactful about the situation. And the interns are…what you'd expect them to be. Some of them are adjusting to residency better than others. And George is being a leader of the new group of interns. He's a good man, good at showing them the way things work in Seattle. Izzie is a lesser version of Sydney, but people seem to respond to it." Preston stopped there, not sure if he should talk about Alex or Meredith and he knew he wasn't going to talk about Cristina.

Addison didn't press him for any more details and looked around for anything to change the topic. She coughed nervously. "So…how was your drive?"

"Long. It was a long drive."

"Yeah, that's what I remember from it, too. But it gives you a chance to clear your head, get your thoughts straight. Mmm….hmmm," Addison sighed. The drive had actually not been the most pleasant one of her life. On the way there, she had thought about Alex Karev and Mark Sloan. On the way back, she had thought about how she would never have children. Sometimes being alone with your thoughts was not the best thing.

"Well, yes. I did do a lot of thinking," he trailed off, thinking of Cristina. They were heading into territory that neither really wanted to cover.

Silence reigned, punctuated with the occasional sound of drinking. Eventually, Addison excused herself to go to bed, leaving Preston alone in the living room.

---

The next morning, Addison awoke to Preston making breakfast.

"I didn't know what kind of eggs you liked, so I just put in what I like," he said, flipping over the omelets.

"No, that's fine." Addison tried to remember the last time she'd had breakfast that didn't entirely consist of cereal. She sleepily poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, blearily watching him cook. It was probably polite to offer to help, but she didn't think she would have anything to do. When she had warned him about her cooking, she had been serious.

Preston set a plate in front of her and sat down with his own plate across from her. Addison cut a piece with the side of her fork and ate slowly. "This is really good, Preston. I think you should just move in here and make eggs every morning for me. In exchange for housing, of course."

"You are very forward in your proposals. You've already asked me to marry you, and now you're asking me to move in?"

Addison blushed and busied herself with eating some more of her eggs. "I'm leaving in about an hour for work, I just need to shower. I think everything you'll need is in your bathroom, but if there's something missing, let me know."

She washed the dishes after breakfast, figuring that she should do something to help out. She made polite conversation about the weather while she scrubbed the plates and Preston volunteered information about Mark and Derek.

---

"I thought you might not even want to get in a car after the eighteen hour drive you went through," Addison said as she put the keys in the ignition.

"Well, I'm not driving this time, so I thought it would be safe. If I need a break, I'll let you know." He smiled at her as she backed out of the driveway.

Their conversation became easier as she drove to work. Addison felt herself becoming more comfortable with him in person, instead of with him just over the phone. She reminded herself that she and Preston were friends and that he was a good person who understood where she was coming from.

She saw Pete pull into the parking lot in front of her, and gave a little wave. "That's Pete Finch," she said, "the alternative medicine specialist."

"Oh, the quack?" he asked with a grin and Addison laughed and parked in her space.

Addison and Preston walked in together, and Addison pointed out various features and punched the button for the elevator.

As the doors opened, Addison heard Tillie's voice. "Who's the new fellow, Addison?" she asked. Preston looked around and Addison remembered that she had forgotten to warn him about her.

"Tillie, this is Preston Burke, a friend from Seattle. Preston, Tillie monitors security and occasionally holds conversations with elevator riders. She's better than the nurse's station."

"Well, it's nice to…meet you?" Preston wasn't sure if this actually counted as meeting someone.

"Always a pleasure to meet an attractive man," Tillie answered and Addison's face flushed for the second time that day. She wasn't sure exactly why she felt embarrassed, maybe it was just for Preston's sake. Addison felt that the doors couldn't open soon enough. One downside of Tillie was that there was rarely a moment to have a private conversation in the elevator.

Once the doors did open, Addison led Preston to her office. Violet almost sprinted out of hers as they walked by.

"Addison, hello! Is this Preston Burke?" She looked him up and down admiringly, not bothering to hide it. Preston cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Yes, yes it is. And as complimented as he is by your attention, perhaps you have something in your office that you need to take care of," Addison said, nudging Preston forward. Violet only nodded and proceeded to watch him walk away.

"Sorry about that," she whispered and he only smiled.

"It's fine."

"I feel like you might get similar treatment from Naomi, although Dell is taking a surf break today, so she might be otherwise distracted."

The words had barely left her mouth when there was an enthusiastic knock on her door and Addison saw Naomi peering through blinds. "Come in," she called and Naomi hurried in.

"Preston Burke, I presume?" she asked, holding her hand out and Preston shook it firmly.

"Correct. And you are Naomi?" he answered, and she nodded with a smile.

"You tell him about us, Addison?" she inquired, tearing her gaze from him.

"Yes, yes I do. Friends tell each other about their other friends."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you but I should probably get back to my office. Work, you know."

"And tell Violet to get back to work. I can practically see her salivating from here," Addison said as Naomi closed the door.

"I'm betting that you're really glad you came."

"It's definitely an ego-boosting exercise." He leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his knees.

The day went by smoothly enough. The introductions to Pete and Sam were not too painful and whenever Addison had a meeting with a patient, he excused himself to the breakroom where he made awkward conversation with the two women who were always sure to need refills whenever he was sitting at the break table.

As they drove home, he regaled her with stories of Violet's excuses, ranging from lunch preparation to 'checking on the status of the utensil cleanliness.'

"She is just appreciative of attractive males," was Addison's response and she immediately mentally kicked herself. Preston looked surprised at her comment, but tactfully moved on to the topic of alternative medicine.

"Is it a useful practice? I mean, does it really help people?"

"No, Preston. We just like to scam people out of money and refer them to our alternative medicine specialist so that they spend their savings. Actually, Pete is quite good. When I first came here, he was really helpful. It was a good…good way to release emotion."

They drove the rest of the way in relative silence. It was broken only when Addison asked what he would like for dinner so that she could stop at the grocery store.

"Why don't we go out?" he offered. "It'd be a nice way to spend the evening."

"Dinner sounds great. I know a good place we can go. That's a good…great idea," she said, pulling into her driveway.

They entered her house and Addison excused herself to get ready to go out. Preston watched her walk up the stairs and then sat on the couch, looking around. It might look homey, but when examined closely, there were no personal touches, no photos on the shelves. He couldn't decide if she was resisting making a home for herself here, or if she hadn't found time yet.

He still couldn't figure out why he had come down to Los Angeles. For vacation, he usually liked to seclude himself, getting the alone time he never got at work. He told himself that he had never been to Los Angeles. He tried to reason that Addison was not his only grounds for coming here. But, in reality, that was the basis for his visit. He had missed her.

* * *

**A/N Again: All right…so, again, this took longer than expected. I hit lots of stalls with conversations. The idea of Izzie as the new Sydney is one of Great Gomerel's in **_**False Optimism**_**. Anyway, thanks for reading. **


	5. I Will Turn You Away

**A/N: Much love to all reviewers! So for an inexplicable reason, this took a looooong time to write. But writing this was a wonderful break between screaming seven year-olds and doing inventory. But I will have everyone know that the entire time I was writing this, I was getting evil glares from a cat. Burke/Addison is obviously not the cat's OTP. Sidenote: I really try to catch all spelling and grammatical errors, but I am horrible at correcting my own errors. So I apologize for any errors that occur in previous and future chapters. But anyway, enjoy!**

Addison sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her open closet. It was always when she was under the most pressure that she never seemed to have anything to wear, and this was no exception. Nothing looked quite nice enough, and if it did look nice enough, it wasn't casual enough. She was determined to dress as though she hadn't put any thought into what she was wearing, that she just happened to look fabulous.

She kept thinking of this dinner with Preston as a date. And it wasn't. He was a man recovering from a pretty horrendous public break-up and was looking for a friend, not a new girlfriend. And even if he was looking for a girlfriend, she wouldn't be his girlfriend. Because they were friends, and she wouldn't want to ruin that. So dressing for dinner should be simple. It was two friends going out on the town to allow Preston another night free of Addison's cooking.

Even if it was a date, there were too many obstacles between them and a relationship. Not that they were thinking of pursuing a relationship. Addison shook her head. This was ridiculous. She was not looking for a relationship, and neither was he. Besides, they hadn't even been on a date yet. And if they were going on a date, it would make dressing for this dinner even more difficult because she hadn't been on a first date in fourteen years. Not that this was a date.

At some point while staring into the abyss that was her closet, she realized that Preston was sitting downstairs waiting for her, so she made herself stand up and pick out a pair of shoes. She always started with shoes. Getting the hardest decision out of the way first made the rest of the process easy. She chose a pair of Emilio Pucci pumps which led her to pick a black wrap dress which took her to a simple silver necklace. Glancing in the mirror, she decided that her hair would have to suffice as is and that she didn't want to add another fifteen minutes to Preston's wait.

She paused before opening her door, to collect her thoughts. She needed to remind herself that she and Preston were just friends. Just friends, nothing more. Even if she had feelings for him, which, to be realistic, maybe she did, she wouldn't act on them because they were just friends. She knew that it was unlikely that he was looking for anything more than just friends.

But there was that first phone call. She had been almost sure there had been attempts at flirting there. Or maybe he had just been complimenting her as a friend. It was hard to tell. But those moments where she had felt most uncomfortable, she was almost sure Preston had been flirting.

Putting the phone call aside, there was the fact that he had come all the way to Los Angeles. Perhaps it was just a vacation and he didn't want to pay hotel, but there must be a reason he chose to come _here_. Unless it was just that he wanted to visit a friend he hadn't seen in a while.

So they were friends. She could be friends with a man. She could be just friends, too. She had been friends with Derek, right? And before the sex, she had been friends with Mark. And she _was_ friends with Preston. She stopped that train of thought because the word 'friends' had now lost all meaning. And because she had clearly reached her point: that she and Preston were just friends.

She opened her door and walked down the stairs, feeling a little as though this was prom night and she was going to be met by her date when she reached the bottom. Her face flushed as she saw Preston standing at the foot of the stairs, his hand extended. "I heard you coming. You look lovely," he said as she took his proffered hand.

"Thank you," she said, barely managing to get it out as her throat seemed to constrict as his fingers closed over hers. "You…you look nice too."

Preston laughed. "I'm wearing the same thing as I was earlier."

Addison closed her eyes in embarrassment and offered a silent prayer to anyone who might happen to be listening for her to not humiliate any further. "Well…," she said, trying to recover, "it looks nice."

"So you have said. Now, where are we off to tonight?" he asked as they walked towards the door.

Addison did her best to remember the place and to not allow her thoughts to be clouded by whatever emotion she might be feeling. "There's this little French bistro that Pete took me out to one of my first nights here, and I make it a point to be there at least once a week. It's gotten to the point where I can just order 'the usual' and they know what I want." Addison felt a little flustered. Mentioning Pete wouldn't have been a good idea, had this been a date. But it wasn't a date, so she shouldn't feel flustered. And it also wasn't as if Pete was an ex-boyfriend. After finding out about his wife's death, she didn't want to venture into romantic territory with him, figuring that he had enough to deal with without her added insanity. She was able to draw the line between boyfriend and friend.

So why couldn't she do that now? Preston had baggage that would normally automatically put him in the "Off-Limits" sect of men. She just reminded herself that he was just a friend, nothing more. Again. And then she realized that he had asked her a question while she had been engrossed in her own thoughts. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I just said, 'penny for your thoughts'," he said, smiling as she closed the door behind them.

Addison froze. She said the first thing that came to mind which was, "I was just thinking about…France. I went there once, and I was thinking about this café that I went to, and they had the best éclairs that I have ever had. And I sat outside and just watched people walk by. And that is what I was thinking." She ended a little abruptly because she hadn't really been thinking about that, and she didn't have a whole lot more to say on the subject. "I'm looking forward to dinner."

And she was. And it wasn't a date, just dinner between two friends. Just friends, just dinner.

To be continued…

**A/N Again: So I hope you liked it. Thanks for reading.**


	6. Can't You See?

**A/N: And so it continues. Faster update than usual 'cause I had a three-day weekend. To get continued inspiration for this, I watched the "proposal" scene multiple times. And then put **_**Could Be Anything**_** on repeat. It was a fun time. As always, continual love to the reviewers. **

Addison was on edge. She was watching Preston's every move, trying to interpret its meaning, barely paying attention to her own food, putting it into her mouth without savoring its taste. He would ask her questions and she wouldn't notice, until he prompted her and then she would have to request him to repeat what he had just said.

"Am I not interesting you?" he asked finally after asking for the third time if she wanted to split an order of beignets.

"Hmm? What? No! I mean yes. You are absolutely interesting me. Definitely." She propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands, looking straight at Preston. "Now. One more time."

"Would…you…like…to…share…beignets?" he asked slowly, enunciating every word carefully, but with a smile on his face.

"Yes, yes I would," Addison said, in part because she actually wanted to and also because she didn't feel like she could turn him down after he had asked four times. The only problem with beignets was that she couldn't even remotely pretend they were healthy. Preston would see her gluttony and be absolutely repulsed by it.

It wasn't that she was self-conscious about her eating habits; it's just that she thought it was better if you waited a while before exposing people to them. She could eat and she wasn't ashamed of it.

Addison smiled as the waiter set down a plate of the warm pastries in front of them. She reached for her fork, but set it down as Preston picked one up in his hands. "I never found much use for silverware when beignets were involved," he said and then took a large bite, sending powder sugar into the air.

That was all the prompting Addison needed, and she took the other one. "Have you," she started, her mouth half full, "ever been to Café du Monde and eaten their beignets?"

Preston allowed himself to swallow before talking. "They do have world famous beignets there. You've been to New Orleans?"

"Just once. But we were told that we absolutely had to go to the Café du Monde and experience their beignets. We ended up going there once a day. These are almost as delicious." Addison took a moment to wipe away the powdered sugar that was now probably covering her face. A black dress really was not appropriate beignet-eating attire.

"After four years at Tulane, I got my fair share of those beignets."

It struck Addison how little she did know about him. She had no idea that he had done his pre-med at Tulane. She had no idea where he completed his medical studies. To a doctor, these were some of the most important issues that someone else could know about them. "Where did you go to medical school?"

"I graduated first in my class from Johns Hopkins," he answered. It was part of his nature to throw in the gratuitous bit about his class rank. He was proud of it, and it partly defined his life as a surgeon. "Dr. Erica Hahn graduated in my class as well."

"I'm sure she must have been close behind you in rankings to have the kind of antagonistic relationship the two of you have." Addison had noticed the tension between the two of them during the O'Malley situation. Now that she knew it was driven by competition and not something else, she felt a little better. She even felt a little twinge of shame for allowing herself to feel jealous.

"She was second. It also helps that I don't let her forget it." Preston was never one to hide his faults. He had a competitive disposition and didn't see any reason to keep that a secret. Not that it was anything like a secret. Everyone knew that Preston Burke strived to be the best that he could be. It also happened that the best he could be usually happened to be better than anyone else. And he felt it was something he should be allowed to be proud about.

Addison knew that Preston was a cocky man. While in Seattle, she had often found herself getting irritated at his consistent need to be the winner and sometimes longed to take him down a notch. She still felt that way now, and bit her tongue before she let some nasty comment slip. Instead she changed the subject.

"What I can't forget are the words I picked up in Seattle. I still have yet to understand the vernacular there. I find myself slipping Mc into my sentences, using 'whatever' far too much, even though I despise both of those things, and it earns me very questioning looks from my co-workers. And I say seriously way too much."

"Seriously?" Preston looked innocently back at Addison, sure that she was repressing the urge to stick her tongue out at him. He liked that she had a playful underside to the professional exterior that he was used to "I blame that entire group of interns for my current vocabulary."

"When I visited Los Angeles, I made Naomi promise that we would never Mc anything and now I'm the one who uses it. When I explained the origin, she snorted." Addison took another bite of her beignet, sending another spray of white powder into the air.

"Well, at least you have something to remember Seattle by," Preston responded, pointing to his own mouth to indicate that Addison had a bit of sugar by hers. She wiped at it, in vain. He shook his head. "You didn't get it." He dabbed his napkin in his water glass and leaned over to clean it off.

Addison felt a little bit of a flutter as his hand touched her face. She ducked her head when he took his hand away to hide her blush. She cleared her throat and looked up at him. "What were we talking about? Oh, right. Something to remember Seattle by. Yes, the words that have infiltrated my vocabulary are something to remember Seattle by. There are other things too, like the fact that I stole about eight pens from the nurse's station, a pair of the salmon scrubs I used to wear, and a clean set of sheets from the clinic."

"And why did you need those?" He understood about the salmon scrubs. There was a certain nostalgic value to those, even if she had traded them in for the navy blue scrubs the other attendings wore. And pens, well, everyone took pens.

"The sheets on your bed, my friend." Addison wasn't sure if she wanted to call attention to the fact that Preston was sleeping on a twin bed. She had always meant to buy a larger bed, but it wasn't high on her list of things to do.

"I thought they looked familiar." He smiled. There were little things that added comfort to one's home. "So you save things."

"Yes, I save things. I like reminders of important events in my life." It was true. She didn't display them prominently, but she did keep them. Occasionally she allowed herself to go through them, to savor in the nostalgia.

"I have things like that, too. My favorite scrub cap, a picture of my grandmother, my Eugene Foote collection." These were the things that had made his apartment undeniably his. These were the things that he had taken from his apartment after his wedding-that-wasn't.

"Eugene Foote? That name sounds familiar. I mean, I realize he's famous, but it sounds more familiar than that."

"He was one of the best violinists, a personal hero of mine. And he was one of my patients." They sat in silence. Addison remembered that day now. That was the day she had started Alex Karev's career in obstetrics, the day she had tied a woman's tubes without her husband's knowledge, the day her reputation had been challenged. The day Preston Burke's hero had died. She reached over and squeezed his hand, the only thing she could do. He wasn't looking at her, and wiped his face with his free hand.

"So, you beat Dr. Hahn," she said after a while, doing her best to lighten the mood.

"Yes. Yes, I did." His voice was quieter, his attitude more subdued. It was not a day he liked to remember. Addison rubbed the top of his hand with her thumb. She didn't know if this was allowed with friends or if it was crossing a line, but she knew that she didn't actually care.

She hadn't seen Preston Burke in such a vulnerable state. It endeared him to her even further. So she was going to hold his hand and do her best to make him feel better. Because it's what friends did. It's what she did. So she held his hand.

**A/N Again: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I watched some of Season Two while writing this, which is where some of the Eugene Foote stuff came in. And there is a real place called Café Du Monde, it really does have the best beignets ever, if you Google 'beignets', the second link that comes up is to their website. I recommend eating them as much as possible.**


	7. Find A One

**A/N: So…I have decided that, after writing this chapter, I should not ever venture back into a fic where I have to make the romance develop. If it's already there, I'm good. If it's not…well…whatever. Anyway, I don't know how this is. It might be a little confusing because it switches back and forth between Addison and Preston frequently. Enjoy.**

Addison felt awkward for the entire ride home. She kept looking over at Preston until he turned to look at her and then she would pretend that she was looking at something out of his window. And she knew that he was doing it too. And she hated that she was doing it. But she kept looking over at him.

Preston didn't usually play games with women. He wasn't that guy. He was forward and direct. When he knew that he wanted something, he went for it. When he had first noticed Cristina as a potential romantic interest, he had bought her coffee. He didn't debate whether or not he should go for it. He was always sure in his decisions, decisive.

Except when it came to Addison. A relationship with Addison would be quite different from his relationship with Cristina. He didn't want to compare the two women; that was something better left to Derek Shepherd, who had bored Preston with endless comparisons between Meredith Grey and Addison. Addison was mature, adult-like. She was ready for a serious, committed relationship.

Addison was now focusing a great deal of attention on _not_ looking at Preston. She couldn't really stop herself from thinking about him though. So she thought about him. She thought about how much she admired him. He had all the qualities that she looked for in a man. He would understand her work schedule (although it had definitely eased up since she switched to the practice), he was a dedicated and devoted man (she had seen how committed he had been to Cristina), he was gentle and kind (his bedside manner always earned him points with her), and attractive (oh, yes…definitely attractive. Which she had accidentally told him several times that day). She realized that she was letting herself think about him in _that_ way now. She wasn't sure when the shift occurred, only that it had.

Preston made it a point to get out his side of the car fast enough so that he could open Addison's door for her. He had never let go of the notion of a gentleman. She smiled appreciatively at him and stepped out of the car.

She tripped and he caught her. Addison took a little longer than usual to steady herself. When she did stand up of her own volition, she felt a slight tinge of color rise to her cheeks as she met his eyes. His expression was questioning and hopeful.

Addison knew that she could fantasize about Preston Burke. She didn't know if she could act on those fantasies. But when his mouth closed over hers, she thought that she would definitely give it a try.

Preston didn't know what it was about Addison that made him a bit more impulsive, a bit less deliberate. But when she looked at him with eyes that were embarrassed, but also slightly expectant he couldn't really help himself. He broke away first and he smiled as he saw that Addison almost looked sad, wistful. She leaned in slightly as he moved away, then caught herself and stood up straight.

Addison tried to remember the last time she had been involved in a kiss that was initiated by a man. It had been Pete Finch. In the stairwell. But it didn't really compare to this one. Because this kiss involved some kind of emotion other than embarrassment and slight depression. This one, well, it was nice. Very nice.

She reached down and took his hand, this time knowing that there was a line between just friends and more than friends and that she was crossing it. She laced her fingers through his and led him into her house. Once inside the house, though, she didn't really know what to do. So she led him to the couch, where they sat.

Preston had been surprised when she had reached for his hand, but it had felt nice. It felt right, somehow. He watched as she fumbled with her keys with her free hand and was touched that she didn't seem to want to let go. Eventually she opened the door and seemed a little unsure of what the next step would be. So they sat on the couch.

Addison hadn't had a man in her house like this before. Sam, Pete and Cooper had all been here, but never under these circumstances. It was a little uncomfortable for her. Kind of like a christening for the house. It was moving to its adult state as a house where _those_ sorts of things happened. When Addison had thought about what it would be like to bring a man in here, she hadn't pictured Preston Burke as that man. But she was rather glad that it turned out to be him after all. He was a safe man, a man with whom she was friend's first, one who respected her. A good man to be the first of _that _kind of man in her house.

At some point, Addison shifted so that she was leaning her head on his shoulder and he leaned down to lightly press a kiss against her hair. He moved his arm so it encircled her shoulders and she took his hand in her own again and played with his fingers. There was a comfortable, natural element to this situation that made the fast transition from just friends to this all right.

Addison didn't want to get her hopes up. She did not have a good track record with male doctors from Seattle Grace. But she could see Preston Burke barbecuing. And maybe he wouldn't play catch with their kids, but – Oh, God. She was thinking about children. And long-term commitment. Preston was just visiting Los Angeles and she was already picturing him moved in and settled down with her. She took things too fast, expected too much. It was her downfall.

Preston felt Addison stiffen against him. She sat up and turned to look at him. "I haven't done this in a long time," she said a little shakily.

"Neither have I." Preston was guessing the last time she had "done this" had been with Alex Karev. And he was determined to do better than that cocky intern.

Addison knew Preston's last experience with a situation similar to this would have been with Cristina. And she didn't know if she wanted to do "this" with him.

"Addison," he said in a tone that almost made her heart melt with its warm and understanding tone. She felt a little trembly as his hand lifted her chin so her gaze met his. "You don't have to do anything."

"I know. I know. It's not that I don't want to. It's that I don't know if I don't want to." She was probably going to a level of Addison insanity that had not been seen since her first visit to Los Angeles, but she figured that if Preston wanted to do anything, he should at least be prepared for what 'anything' came with. She started the kiss this time, leaning in slowly, hesitantly, putting her hand on his chest, making a mental note that, should things ever progress to _that_ point, she would want to get a good look at his chest. His hands were soon entangled in her hair.

She pulled away after it seemed like centuries had passed. "I know that I don't want to not do this," she said and cringed inwardly at the use of the double negative. Preston only laughed and pulled her closer, intent on picking up where they had left off.

To be continued…

**A/N Again: I feel like this may have leaned towards the sappy and I apologize. Let me know what you think, constructive criticism/advice/love is all welcome. And I made up the word 'trembly', or at least Word thinks so. But shouldn't it be a word? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**


	8. Who Could Turn You On

**A/N: So, apparently having an angry cat staring at you causes inspiration. So I wrote a great deal of this while nannying. No, I'm not a bad nanny, they were otherwise engaged. Anyway…I hope you enjoy this!**

Somehow they had moved from the living room couch to Addison's bedroom. She wasn't entirely sure how it had happened, and she wasn't entirely sure she minded.

"Your sheets are nicer than mine," Preston commented with a smile, reaching out to feel them. Addison made as if to jab him in the stomach with her elbow and he grabbed her arm, laughing.

Addison realized the gravity of the situation in that moment. There had been men in her house but this was the very first time a man had been in her room, on her bed. She knew where this was going; she had had enough experience to know that when a woman led a man up to her room after a good long make-out session, it wasn't going to end in a fully clothed hand-shake and a hug good night.

Normally she didn't move this fast in a relationship. She didn't like women that jumped into bed with a man as soon as the opportunity arose.

With Derek, she had made him wait a long time before she allowed him anywhere near her bed. He had been impatient, often dropping hints, but Addison had ignored all that. She wanted to wait for the perfect night and she had infinite patience in situations such as this.

The night had come after Derek had surprise her with a midnight picnic in Central Park, a novel thing for med students. They were both up, pulling an all-nighter as they studied for an exam the next day. Derek had gotten them out of her dorm with the excuse that they needed fresh air. When he led her to a large blanket with a picnic basket (full of food) next to it, she had been touched by the gesture (because Derek hated picnics, but knew she loved them). By the time they had finished the meal and packed up the blanket and dishes, thoughts of studying had left her mind. She wasn't sure if Derek had planned it this way, but that didn't stop her from pushing her notes and her textbooks off of her bed onto the floor. When they had woken up in the morning, she hadn't been especially happy about that particular decision because she had to sort through many sheets of looseleaf paper.

Addison had known Mark for twelve years before they had slept together. He knew her better than anyone and that was including Derek. Mark was the one who showed up when Derek canceled dinner plans or lunch dates. Mark would take her to the movies and buy her popcorn when Derek called to say that he had an important surgery that just couldn't wait. Addison wasn't sure if Derek knew that Mark was doing all of these things, but she also wasn't sure if she even wanted Derek to know. It almost felt like cheating, even if they were just friends. But, of course, when they were _actually_ committing adultery, that was when Derek noticed. And it hadn't been a planned event. Mark had come over and found Addison eating a slightly cold, burned chicken breast at a table set for two. "He didn't even call this time," she had told him, hitting the chicken with her fork a few times, as though it were some sort of Derek voodoo doll.

She had looked at him with sad eyes and he had looked back with an expression full of sympathy. She wouldn't even try to blame Mark for the sex. He had pulled the chair that had been meant for Derek next to her and drew her into a warm, friendly hug. It had been so long since she had felt that kind of care that she had kissed him, almost experimentally. She had found that she enjoyed it. At that point, guilt might not have even registered. She couldn't honestly say that she regretted the sex. She regretted the fact that Derek found out about it.

Alex Karev was a horse of a different color. She knew almost nothing about him, only that he was an overly confident intern that she had enjoyed taking down a few pegs. But once it was clear that he actually liked obstetrics and was showing enthusiasm for the "vagina squad," it was hard for Addison to dislike hi as much. And when he had started talking about boxing to calm the restless unborn baby in surgery, Addison had felt a twinge of something more. Alex was the first man she had literally lusted after. He may have made it clear that he was not lusting after her, but that didn't mean she could just turn off her attraction to him. He was the first man she had slept with that didn't have some sort of history with her. She knew nothing of his personal history, but that had not stopped her from practically attacking him in the hallway (although once they were in the on-call room, he was more than wiling). She couldn't think of the incident without feeling a rush of intense embarrassment. That had not been her. She had been taken over by some lust-beast.

Sitting here with Preston, though, was different from any of the three previous men. She had known him for almost two years, she knew things about him, she had met his parents, she had performed surgery with him. These experiences all had a feeling of intimacy attached to them.

When she came to Seattle, she had, of course, _heard_ of The Preston Burke and had been excited to work with him. Now, with him next to her on her bed, the childish and immature thought that kept coming to mind was, "Preston Burke is going to see me naked." Even though she knew him now, was friends – more than friends – with him, she had somehow reverted to thinking of him as The Preston Burke, renowned cardiothoracic surgeon, and not Preston, the man who drove eighteen hours just to see her.

Preston's last time had been with Cristina two weeks before their wedding-that-wasn't. He had suggested they hold off, to make the wedding night all the more special. Cristina had complied, the way she had with all of his wedding plans. He knew that his mother had labeled Cristina as selfish, but Preston wasn't sure that was entirely true. She had tried her best when they were together, occasionally making small gestures that showed she was doing what she could. And Preston had understood that. He appreciated it. But it just hadn't been enough, in the end. And he was sorry for it.

It had been almost two years since he had slept with a woman that wasn't Cristina. He was a commitment-minded man, but he wasn't one to withhold sex until he was sure that the relationship was serious. His relationship with Cristina had been primarily sex until he had taken the next step. Sex wasn't something that particularly concerned him.

With Addison, however, there was something of a foundation in place. They had become friends first. That did concern him. He didn't want to ruin a perfectly good friendship if this thing that they were doing didn't work out, but he didn't think Addison was the kind of woman to let that stop them from being close friends.

Addison didn't want her past encounters overshadowing this present one. She didn't mean to invite Alex, Derek, and Mark into her bedroom. Their presences were just as irritating in her mind as they were in person. She shook her head, as though she might shake them out, and took a deep breath. She _could_ focus on her past and ruin this night. Or she could look towards a future. With Preston.

Preston was not one to dwell on the past. He always tried to move ahead, learning from his mistakes to achieve better results in the future. He quickly put Cristina out of his mind. She had nothing to do with this night with Addison. And what he hoped would be many more nights. So he put Cristina in the past and moved forwards. With Addison.

To be continued…

**A/N Again: Thanks for reading…we've hit the over halfway point. Thanks for sticking with me.**


	9. Everything Will Want To Go Your Way

**A/N: I'm not going to lie…I'm not sure about this chapter. I wanted to get it up before I didn't have a chance for a while, but I'm a little stuffed up at the moment and when that happens, I think phlegm takes over my brain. I hope you like, it though.**

Addison awoke in the morning feeling a little achy, but overwhelmingly content. She stretched slightly, realizing that she was on the left side of the bed. She hadn't stayed on one side of the bed since she had been married. She usually took up as much space as she possible could. She looked over and saw that the right side was empty, but that there was still a Preston-sized dent in it. The pillows smelled like him and she inhaled the scent with a smile.

She sat up and ran a hand through her tangled hair and looked around. She felt a shot of panic as she noticed Preston's clothes had been picked up off the floor. She immediately thought that he had left without saying good-bye, that the situation had taken a turn for the awkward and he wasn't able to deal with it. Then she saw that his bag had been moved up to her room and was sitting on the chair opposite her bed.

Resisting the urge to look inside, she instead grabbed a robe off the back of her door and walked downstairs, tying it shut as she went. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw the backdoor was open and on the table was a note:

"_A" – _

_Gone for groceries…do you ever go shopping? _

- "_B"_

She held the note in her hand, slightly flummoxed, then slipped it into the pocket of her robe. Groceries? If she could recall, there was a grocery store a few blocks from her home. Maybe he noticed it on the way to or from the restaurant last night. It was a kind gesture and Addison was touched by it. She couldn't even remember the last time a man had gone out of his way to make her breakfast. Addison decided that the only to do while she waited for him to return was to make coffee, so that's exactly what she did.

When Preston came in ten minutes later with two shopping bags, he found Addison looking over a newspaper, sipping fresh coffee. She looked up at him over her glasses and he smiled, thinking he had rarely seen so welcoming a sight.

"You had just about nothing in your cupboards and I remembered you saying over dinner that you enjoyed Eggs Benedict. And we passed a grocery store last night that wasn't too far, so I took the opportunity to do some shopping for you."

Addison had no explanation prepared for why her kitchen was so devoid of food. She was sure there were at least a few containers of yoghurt in the refrigerator and perhaps some basic cooking supplies in one of the cabinets. She got up to help Preston put things away, but he waved her away.

"Sit, sit. I'm making breakfast." Addison was surprised at how at home he looked in her kitchen. She didn't think that she even looked that at home in her kitchen. He seemed to know where everything was, mixing hollandaise sauce with ease as he waited for the poached eggs to finish.

It was odd that, even though this was only the second morning Preston had been here, his making breakfast for her seemed almost like a habit. She wondered vaguely what life would be like when he went back to Seattle. Probably the usual grabbing a spoon and a container of yoghurt on the way out, taking spoonfuls at stoplights. She quickly pushed those thoughts away, preferring to think instead about the plate of steaming eggs that was being placed in front of her.

She wanted to ask if he made breakfast for a lot of his girlfriends but thought that it might be a touchy subject because his last girlfriend was Cristina and that did not end well. So she filled her mouth with Canadian bacon and English muffin instead and contemplated the fusion of the two countries into one delicious breakfast.

"Did you want anything to drink? I bought milk and orange juice," he said, holding up an empty glass.

"All right, I _had_ orange juice already. There was no need to buy it." Addison tried, but she could barely muster a false frustration. "And I'll have milk."

"And it was two weeks past its date. No one should have been drinking that. I'm glad I didn't choose juice on my first night here. I'd probably be hospitalized." He placed a glass of milk in front of her and she smiled up at him through a mouthful of food, only slightly embarrassed.

They ate breakfast, mostly in a comfortable silence, each with a section of newspaper. It was occasionally punctuated with one of them pointing out a particularly interesting article. It felt particularly grown up and sophisticated to Addison. Grown up and sophisticated was a good feeling.

Addison took on the role of washing dishes once more, finding that there was actually something relaxing about scrubbing food residue off of flatware. When she had finished drying and putting the dishes away, she looked around uncomfortably. Preston's clothes were now in her room. Should she go up there and dress? What if he dressed while she was dressing? Would it be better if she waited until he was done dressing? It was then that she realized he was dressed; he had gotten dressed to go to the grocery store. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She didn't know if she should tell Preston that she was going to go get dressed. Should she let him know of her every movement? Should she simply go upstairs and let him figure it out for himself? She looked over at him; he had moved to the couch, still reading the paper. She hadn't noticed before that he wore glasses and added to the list of things about him that she found attractive. "I'm…I'm going to go upstairs," she said, gesturing. He nodded from behind the Sports section. Addison twisted in place slightly, a little unsure if that was enough, and then turned and went up the stairs.

She showered quickly, then faced her closet, which seemed a lot less cavernous than it had the night before. Everything in it seemed suitable. Dressing this morning took a lot less care than dressing for last night had. She no longer felt the extreme pressure to impress anyone. It was a typical work day and that required no special attention. Choosing something did not take the extensive thought process when there was no one to make a striking impact on. She could use her usual method, which was extensive in its own right, but a good deal speedier than her epic decision of last night had been.

She jumped slightly as she heard Preston enter her room and turned to face him. "You should wear that," he said, pointing to a pale green dress that, until he had suggested it, had looked unappealing to her. Now it looked like the only thing that was suitable in any way.

"I was just about to pick that one myself," she said, figuring that it wasn't really a lie as it was the only thing she wanted to wear now anyways. She went to take it off of its hanger, then realized she was in exactly the situation she didn't want to be in. Should she change now? Should she drop a hint that he leave? Was going to the bathroom to change too prudish?

Preston solved the dilemma by saying, "I was just about to head out. I wanted to explore the city today, since you'll be at work."

Addison was relieved that he wasn't going to come in to the practice with her today, figuring that the women there had caused him enough discomfort to last him a year. "And you're sure you'll be able to find your way back here? I don't want to get a panicked call at work asking me where the hell I live."

"You won't get one of those today, I promise," he answered and leaned in to kiss her cheek gently. "I will see you tonight. Have a good day."

Addison felt a little prickle at her eyes. When was the last time she had been treated this way? She thought it had maybe been when she was still in New York. She was almost sure it had been Mark, but she didn't know if it was when they had been friends or lovers.

She liked that Preston didn't realize how much his gestures meant, that he did them just out of his own genuine personality. She dressed slowly and when she looked in the mirror, decided that this green dress was sadly underused and deserved to be worn more often.

She knew it was going to be a good day.

**A/N Again: So the only thing I really have to say is that the note from Burke to Addison is modeled after his note to Cristina in "Much Too Much" (2x10). He abbreviates their names and puts the letters in quotations. So I applied that note-leaving logic to this note. Thanks for reading!**


	10. I Don't Have Time to Explain

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. Once I got into it, I kind of enjoyed writing it. I hope you like it.**

When Addison left her house, she was feeling supremely confident and content. By the time she got to the practice, she was rethinking it all. She felt unsure and more than a little worried.

First of all, wasn't it awfully forward of Preston to move his bag into her room? He was making it clear that he planned on spending his remaining nights in her bed. To be honest, the thought had not bothered her when she first thought of it. But then it struck her that it was making assumptions. Granted, the assumption was correct: that she wouldn't mind if he slept with her every night until the cows came home, but it was forward all the same.

She didn't want to expect too much and she didn't want too much expected of her. They lived in different states – eighteen hours apart. Long-distance friendships could work but she was less sure about the success rate of long-distance romances. And if you add the difficulty of distance to her own unique inability to maintain a successful relationship post-Derek then there was almost no hope for them.

She needed space, time to mull this new…thing over. She didn't want to be rushed. Just because they had sex did not mean that this was forever. Did he think that they were now committed, that they were going to be together forever? Or did he just want to have sex with her for a week? Should she be insulted by that thought? Because she didn't actually _feel _insulted. She just felt that she should feel insulted.

So she would put space between them. It would be hard, as he was in her house, but she had a lot of skill in the avoidance area.

She had done this with Alex Karev, too. After she had kissed him in the bar, she had avoided him. She didn't have a way to explain her behavior and so she had kept her distance that day, going the opposite way when she saw him. She had kept away because she had thought that he was interested; that he would want to pursue something and she wasn't sure that she did. Avoidance had not played out well for her. Instead she had been pulled into a linen closet and shot down.

Not that that was something Preston Burke would do. Besides, she didn't have a linen closet so much as a linen cupboard, so he couldn't really pull her into it.

Addison let out a sigh as she got out of her car. She walked towards her office and Violet accosted her. "So…how's the man-friend?" she asked, looping her arm around Addison's as they walked.

"Preston? He's-oh-he's fine. Fine, good. Yes."

"Oh my God, you slept with him." She stopped in her tracks and looked at Addison with a wide grin on her face.

"Slept with – Me? No. No, well…yes. But…yes." How could she avoid the problem if no one would let her avoid it?

"How was it?" Violet had once again joined arms with Addison and was talking to her conspiratorially.

"It was good…great…fine…," she started, then realized what she was doing. "Violet! That's private. Go…talk to Cooper. He doesn't mind sharing his encounters with whatever chat buddy he's come across." It was unkind, but it solved the problem of having to talk about Preston. Violet shrunk back and Addison closed her office door.

Addison sat at her desk, head in her hands. She looked up when Naomi knocked and waved her in.

"Violet says you slept with Preston?" Naomi seated herself across from Addison and leaned her elbows on the table.

"Good morning to you, too, Naomi. How was your night last night?" Addison drummed her fingers against her chin.

"My night would sound boring compared to yours. How did it happen? Did you start? Did he? It's been a while for you, you know. I mean, wasn't that intern your last encounter? Did it go all right? Did he stay in your room? Or did he go back to that seedy guestroom of yours? And –"

"Naomi!" Addison felt overwhelmingly embarrassed. "I'm not…going to talk about it."

"Does that mean it went badly? It went badly, didn't it? Was that his fault or yours? I mean, you–"

"It was fine. It was great. We both enjoyed it. No one did anything wrong, everything…worked. And that's all you get. I'm not talking about it. Anymore. Now. I need to get ready to see a patient. I will talk to you later." She stood up and opened her door, an invitation for Naomi to leave.

"Don't think you're getting out of this, Addison. I know you. Something's wrong. Or – wait. Are you doing that thing where you're all scared of commitment?" Naomi kept talking, but Addison was now forcibly pushing Naomi out of her office. As she closed the door, Naomi called, "You'll tell me later. I'll get it out of you."

Addison watched as Violet attempted to stealthily walk to Naomi's office and sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. She had had enough of the rumor mill in Seattle. At least this one was limited to two women (and maybe Cooper, depending on how needy and sad he was feeling on a given day) instead of an entire hospital.

Her phone rang and she saw that it was Preston. She grimaced slightly as she answered, "Hello, Preston."

"How's work going this morning? Is everyone missing your dashing counterpart from yesterday?"

"Work is fine and you actually have been the topic of conversation quite a bit this morning. But, um, I'm kind of swamped at the moment," she said as she surveyed her empty desk, "so I will have to talk to you later. Have a good day!" She felt guilty as she hung up the phone before he could respond.

Cooper knocked on her door and Addison nodded him in. "Good morning, Addison," he said, leaning against the wall. "Violet tells me that you slept with Preston."

"Yes, yes I did, Cooper. It was a fabulous evening. He started it by kissing me, but then I kissed him back and brought him up to my room. Then we had sex. After that, we fell asleep. Then he walked to the grocery store to make me breakfast. Anything else the vultures wanted to know?" she practically spat it out, so frustrated with the whole thing.

"Actually, I was just going to say congratulations. He seemed like a really nice guy. But…I'll let Naomi and Violet know. I'm assuming they're the vultures…," he trailed off and let himself out as Addison silently seethed at her own blunder.

Once patients started coming in, Addison calmed down a little bit. She started to feel like she had the situation under control, she was forming a plan. On her lunch break, she stayed in her office, eating a yogurt that she had grabbed from the fridge on her way out. Anything to avoid the conversations that would most likely ensue if she went to the break room.

Preston called again when she was licking the last remnants of strawberry yogurt from the spoon.

"I know you're busy," he began before she had time to say hello, "so I thought that I could make dinner for us tonight and we can just have a quiet, relaxing night. No stress, just a calm evening at your home." Addison felt like there was an irritated undertone in his voice and she honestly didn't blame him.

"Um…," she bit her lip, not really having an excuse prepared. "I'm working late." She rolled her eyes at herself and then felt her heart drop as Preston sighed on the other end.

"Well, I'll see you when you come home," he said, and she heard the phone click as he hung up.

Addison was good at avoidance, she just wasn't good at dealing with the repercussions.

She busied herself for the rest of the day, pushing any thoughts of Preston out of her mind. Violet and Naomi avoided her office, but she could see them occasionally looking in at her and whispering.

At half past eight, Addison let herself into her house quietly. She saw Preston sitting on her couch, doing a crossword puzzle. He looked up at her and asked, "TV show that had it's Dey in court? Dey is spelled –"

"D-E-Y, yeah, that's L.A. Law. Cooper loves that show." She bit her lip. "Well…I'm just going to grab something to eat quickly then go up to bed."

"Sleep well," he said as he wrote in the answer.

Addison saw that there was a chicken breast wrapped up in the fridge and felt a rush of guilt again. He had made her dinner and she had been horrible to him. She moved it aside, along with her guilt, to grab an apple.

"Good night, Preston," she said, climbing the stairs. When she entered her room, she saw that Preston's bag was gone from her room and that it was back to the way it was before they had slept together. She felt sad and lonely.

When she woke up in the morning, she saw that she was still alone and when she inhaled, she could no longer smell Preston in her sheets. She dressed without really paying attention to what she was pulling out of her closet and didn't even see what she was wearing until she sat in her car. Luckily it matched, so she at least felt confident in her ability to unconsciously pick out clothing.

Preston had gone out running so she hadn't even seen him. He had left her a note, like the previous morning. But nothing about this morning was like the morning before.

The only positive thing about her avoidance plan was that she realized she didn't actually want to avoid Preston. That didn't really help her now though.

Avoidance was something she wanted to avoid.

**A/N Again: I don't know how Naomi and Violet will behave and I can only hope Cooper will act the way I wrote him in this chapter. The LA people are sometimes (okay, always) tricky for me to write. I hope you liked it!**


	11. Make You Understand

**A/N: Apologies to those of you left bereft after the last chapter. I hope this one more than makes up for it. **

Preston Burke almost thought that he had had his fill of relationships where he had to be the one to take steps forward. Addison had seemed content when she left the house but when he had called her, it seemed like she had taken two steps back. But then he thought of how Addison had taken his hand in hers two nights ago and led him into her house.

He would get frustrated when he thought of the way she had been brusque on the phone with him when he was offering to make her a home-cooked diner. And he had made dinner for two anyway, on the hope that she might have changed her mind. And then he would remember the way her skin felt against his and how peaceful she had looked when she was sleeping.

He felt some remorse about abruptly moving his things from her room back to the guest bedroom, but he thought that she wanted to draw the line and he was going to do it for her. He felt guilty for avoiding her the way she had avoided him. It had been hard for him, last night, seeing her discover the leftover chicken, seeing the flash of…he thought it might have been regret. Then she had pushed it aside. For an apple. And Preston saw a glimpse of what her life was like. He had almost stood right then to gather her into his arms and give her the kind of care she deserved. Instead he had stayed on the couch, writing in clues to a crossword puzzle.

He had gone running around the time he knew she had to leave, partly to give her space and partly to give himself space. When he returned, he half-hoped for some kind gesture to show him that she had been wrong. There hadn't been.

He stood in the kitchen for several minutes, trying to come up with some answer to the problem. He found none, other than that he would have to take a step forward. It was that, or go back to Seattle, and he didn't really want to do that at all.

So he put together a lunch basket. It was cliché and sappy but it was the best he could do in a new city and someone else's home. He drove to the practice and felt the eyes of Naomi and Violet following him as he walked to Addison's office.

He didn't even knock; he saw she was alone and let himself in. She looked up in confusion, then a broad smile spread across her face. She stood and made an attempt to walk towards him but seemed to have momentarily forgotten that there was a desk between them. After biting back the tears that had jumped into her eyes from the pain, she found the correct route around the desk and towards him.

"I missed you this morning," she said and Preston almost lost it. How could she pretend that she hadn't ignored him for a day was beyond him. He set the basket on a chair and lightly gripped her arms.

"What is this?" he asked softly, but she detected more than a little annoyance in his voice. "What was yesterday?"

"Yesterday…yesterday was me being stupid. Your bag was in my room. I made a big deal out of it because when I'm alone, I tend to over think things and overanalyze them and reach a conclusion that no sane person would come to. And my conclusion was that I needed space and that the only way to get space was to avoid. And after a day of avoiding, I realized that…space was the…last thing…I…wanted," she ended a little breathily as Preston moved closer with every pause until there was no space between them at all. He leaned down and Addison was sure that she had never been kissed so thoroughly in her life. Her arms found their way around his neck and his hands had settled on her hips. She wasn't sure how long it went on for, but she thought that she could learn not to breathe in order to keep doing this forever.

When the wave of pleasure subsided, Addison was hit with a jolt of reality and she pulled away. Preston looked confused and she gestured at the glass walls of her office. He turned to see Violet and Naomi thoroughly engrossed in something on the couch that face Addison's office. Dell was at his desk, looking slightly slack-jawed.

Addison had detached herself from Preston and was nosing at the basket. "What's this?"

"Lunch. I guessed you only had yogurt and I wanted to see you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to get plates and glasses from the break room."

"Watch out for the vultures," she hissed as he opened the door. He turned and flashed a smile at her as Violet and Naomi hurried over, presumably to find out all the details. Preston squeezed past them and walked towards the kitchen.

"Well, Addison, I guess you _did_ do something right," Naomi said with a smirk and Addison punched her lightly in the arm.

"Are there more of him in Seattle? Maybe I need to transfer." Violet was craning her neck, trying to watch Preston's every move. Addison shooed them out when he returned and they stared at him admiringly as he walked past.

"They really like you. Violet will probably ask for a hair sample later so that she can clone you," Addison grinned.

"Well, we'll see. But I think even my clone would know that you were the one for him," Preston said, setting out chicken salad sandwiches, wine and a few apples.

Addison blushed as she reached for her wine glass. "Well, don't tell Violet that. You could probably sell it to her," she replied, recovering her composure.

"Now there's an idea. And tell me, what does Naomi have to say?"

"Well, don't be insulted, but she already has her mancandy in the form of a twenty-something receptionist, so she probably won't be asking for DNA anytime soon. But she said I must've done something right."

"Done something right?" he repeated as he took a bite of an apple. "Addison, you barely did anything right."

"Excuse me!" she said indignantly. "Who brought who up to her bedroom? I would think that you would think that was a good thing. Something right. And who –" she stopped as she saw Preston biting back a smile and she half-heartedly swatted at him. This only furthered his amusement and he let out a laugh which also let out a spray of fruit. "Now that's just disgusting. You're lucky I'm here to do something right and clean it up like it was normal for my boyfriend to spit on me." She froze, realizing that she had just called Preston Burke her boyfriend.

He sensed her insecurity and grasped her hand. "I do not make a habit of spitting on my girlfriends."

Her face warmed into a smile and she dabbed away fruit spit, the grin seemingly plastered on her face.

---

Once they had finished lunch, Addison cleaned up the garbage and gave her desk one final wipe, to "get rid of Preston-germs," she said. He had laughing kissed her and when he stepped back, said, "Well, now your mouth is covered in 'Preston-germs.' What ever will you do?"

"I think I'm just going to have to take a good…long bath when I get home," she said invitingly.

"That seems like contributing to the problem, not the solution," he mocked gently, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, I guess that's my lot, then. Nothing can be done," she shrugged with a smile and Preston just chuckled.

"I'm leaving now, because you probably need to get some work done and you need to have time to give Naomi and Violet the scoop. And tell Violet we can keep in contact about purchasing my cells." He left her with one last heart-pounding kiss and she resigned herself to five hours until she would get to do that again.

---

True to Preston's prediction, Naomi and Violet appeared in Addison's office as if they had been shot from a sling.

"That…that looked quite wonderful," Naomi said, sitting in one of the chairs. Violet sat on the edge of Addison's desk, nodding emphatically in agreement.

"Well…it was." Addison let out a small sigh of pleasure just thinking about it.

"So, really, are there any more of him? I kind of think I would want a Preston-clone." Addison let out a snicker and Violet twisted so she was facing Addison. "What?"

"Hmm? Nothing. And there aren't any more of him. And if there were, I'm not sure I'd share," Addison answered.

"You'd do the whole polygamy thing?" Naomi cocked her eyebrow.

"For Preston Burke, I don't know who wouldn't do polygamy," Violet said. "I'd do it."

"Is it polygamy if it's the same person, just a lot of them?" Addison asked, tapping a finger against her chin.

"What if it was twins?" Naomi looked to Violet.

"Maybe…it might be incest, though too. And I don't think there's anyone I'd do incest for." Violet bit her lip thoughtfully.

"You aren't sure on that one? I'm one hundred percent sure that there's no one I'd do incest for. Especially polygamic incest," Addison said laughingly.

"Is polygamic even a word?" Naomi asked, chuckling as Addison waved away the question and stood.

"It is because I just used it. Now you two have to go do work because I have to do work."

"And daydream about Preston Burke," Violet teased as she slid off the desk.

"Well, probably. But you're going to be too, so there's no need to tease," Addison replied, holding the door open for the two women.

"Yeah, that's true. Hope you don't mind." Violet gave a little wave and walked back to her office.

"Good job, Addison. I mean it. You didn't screw it up. Congratulations," Naomi whispered as she walked by and Addison took a swipe at Naomi's retreating back.

Addison closed her door after Naomi left and sat at her desk grinning for a good fifteen minutes before she was able to do any kind of work.

---

When she got home, there was indeed a nice…long bath. Addison reveled in the warm water, leaning against Preston's warm body. They followed their bath with something that really just negated the hour they had spent soaking.

"You should move your bag back in here," Addison whispered, staring at the ceiling. She pulled the sheet up to cover herself as she turned on her side to face Preston, who turned his face towards her.

"Why are you whispering?" he asked, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

She shrugged one shoulder slightly. "I don't want to jinx this or let anything get in the way. I already almost did once," she said, running her fingers lightly up and down his arm.

"Addison, I hate to break it to you, but there's not going to be anything that gets in the way of this." Preston took her hand in his and gently rubbed his thumb along her palm, mirroring her gesture from their date. "Nothing is going to get in the way of this."

Addison knew that it probably wasn't true, she didn't want to get her hopes up. Whole states could get in the way of this, but when she looked into his eyes, those eleven hundred miles disappeared and all she saw was him.

**A/N Again: So, there you have it. Maybe a little (maybe more than a little) sappy, but I embrace the sappy. I'm grateful to all of you who are still reading at this point. Thank you so much! **

**On an unrelated note, for any people who care (aka probably just me because I have become more than a little obsessed with Burke/Addison), I have (with help) been chronicling the moments in Baddison history and there's a link in my profile. **


	12. Run A Long Way

**A/N: Without the cat staring daggers at me, I have difficulty writing. I feel as if I am incredibly out of my element at this moment in time. I've had Word open for pretty much the past three days and I've had an insane amount of trouble writing this. I also have been distracted by the Impossible Quiz...so, there you go. I do hope you enjoy it, though. **

* * *

Addison had watched Preston pack up his bag. She had watched him carefully fold his shirts and pants, without creases. She fully expected this kind of deliberateness from a world-class surgeon but it had been mesmerizing nonetheless. She had watched him put his bag in the backseat of his car and she had bitten her lip to keep the tears from forming behind her eyes. She thought the air in Los Angeles made her more emotional. He had come out of his car with a square something and handed it to her. She had looked down at it and read, "The Best of Eugene Foote." 

"It's so the next time I mention him, you won't require an explanation," he had said. Addison knew that he probably owned every album ever put out by the violinist but she was still touched by the gesture.

"What are you going to listen to on the way home, then?" she asked. He had shrugged it off and she was moved even more. "You can pick one of my CDs." She led him back into her house, only partly to put off the moment when he would drive away. Mostly she wanted to return the favor. She had a meager CD collection, but placed Eugene Foote alphabetically between The Beatles and the Les Miserables recording. Preston ran his finger down the row of CDs and paused at Steve Goodman's _Affordable Art_. "I'd like this one," he said as he pulled it out.

"Going to spend the ride learning to talk backwards?" Addison laughed, remembering that she had tried, in vain, to speak backwards for an entire day. She had barely lasted five minutes.

"Uoy evol I," he had responded and Addison had stopped laughing immediately. He lifted her chin gently with his finger and she bravely met his gaze. She felt a bubbling over of emotion that she wasn't entirely sure how to categorize. "I do," he had whispered, drawing her face closer to hers.

She hadn't responded and he had pulled away, looking hurt and slightly offended. "Preston…," she had said, but he was already to the door. She hurried to catch up to him and grabbed his arm as he walked out. "It's not that I don't care for you."

"You're just not ready," he finished for her and she nodded mutely. He leaned down suddenly, capturing her mouth in an angry passionate kiss, then walked away from her and got into his car without looking back. She had stood numbly on her front steps and watched him until he was no longer visible. She stayed for a good many more minutes, hugging herself as though she might break if she didn't hold on. When she did go back inside, she put in Eugene Foote and sat on her couch without moving until the recording ended.

---

Preston was nursing his injured pride as he inserted _Affordable Art_ into his CD player. He didn't like saying 'I love you' unless he was absolutely sure that it was reciprocated. And with Addison, he had been sure. He was still sure, but thought that she had just been caught off guard. That was his hope, anyway. Steve Goodman's voice filled his car and he contemplated the red-haired woman.

It had been, all things considered, an excellent week. He couldn't imagine a better one, unless it could have involved some rare surgery. He felt more sure about Addison in this one week than he had felt about Cristina in their year together. Addison was his equal. She had achieved the same things he had and he was even willing to defer to her in some matters. She might be completely inept in the kitchen but more than made up for it with certain other talents. He wasn't happy with his behavior on her front stoop, but there was nothing to be done. If she didn't love him, then she didn't. And if she did, then she needed some time. So that's all there was to it. He wasn't going to guilt her or try to force her into anything. She knew what was what, so the ball was in her court.

After driving for several hours, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and smiled when he saw it was Addison.

"I know I don't approve of driving and cell phone talking, but this is important," she said before he even had time to say hello. "You made this past week the best week I've ever had. I didn't know I could enjoy chicken salad sandwiches as much as all that, and, to be quite candid, you are phenomenal at sex. And I am beyond flattered by what you said. Don't think for a moment that I don't appreciate it. I've been sitting on my couch for the past three hours thinking of nothing _but_ you and wishing that you weren't driving back to Seattle. I know I spent a good part of last night and this morning trying to convince you to stay, and I know that every hospital in Los Angeles would love to have you, but if Seattle is where you want to be, then I want you to be there. Just…promise me that you'll come back soon. Or that you'll let me come visit. Because I really, _really_ like you." She took paused for air, took a deep breath and said, "Maybe even love like you."

"Addison…," was all Preston could manage. He heard a wet-sounding breath on the other end.

"Now focus on the road. It would be horrible if you got into an accident." Addison hung up the phone and Preston thought seriously about turning around and going right back to Addison's house.

---

Addison didn't know what to do with herself. She was feeling incredibly antsy. When dinnertime rolled around, she explored her refrigerator and took out the leftover chicken breast from two nights previous. She sat at her dining room table feeling indescribably lonely. She thought about calling Naomi or Pete, just for company's sake, but realized it wasn't their company she wanted.

She turned Eugene Foote on again and resumed her couch position. This time she found herself humming along at certain points.

---

A day later, Preston arrived in his apartment. It was still not completely the way he wanted it to be; he was still settling in. He unpacked his clothes quickly and went to sleep. He needed as much rest as possible before returning to Seattle Grace and the barrage of questioning that would no doubt follow.

He walked into the hospital and Shepherd caught up with him as the elevator doors opened. "Where were you last week?" he asked as they boarded the elevator.

"On vacation," he answered shortly. How did you tell a co-worker that you had just spent the week sharing his ex-wife's bed? Was there a Hallmark card for that?

"Where?" Shepherd earned himself an exasperated glance from Preston. The last time he had shown this much interest in his life was around the time of his almost-wedding.

"Why is it any of your concern?" Preston couldn't help but think that it was ridiculous just how slowly the elevators moved in this hospital.

"I'm just curious. I might be looking to vacation myself some time soon and so I'm wondering where co-workers are spending their free time." He shot Preston one of his supposed "McDreamy smiles" that thoroughly annoyed the cardiothoracic surgeon.

"I went to the coast, to get some sun. The rain was getting to me." Preston leaned forwards and jammed his floor button a few more times, even though he knew it wasn't actually going to do anything. Perhaps it would give Shepherd a hint.

Sadly it didn't, as he continued his questioning all the way down the hall, making it hard for Preston to continue to be vague and unspecific in his answers. He wondered what Derek's reaction would be if he just told him that he had gone to see Addison. He did, however, manage to lose Derek when he changed into his scrubs.

---

Addison's cell phone rang when she was in the break room and she raced to her office to answer. She practically dropped it as she tried to open it. She did finally manage to say, "Hello?" into the speaker and waited with bated breath until she heard the now familiar, "Addison, hello." She loved how he answered the phone, with the name first, then the salutation.

"How's the hospital?" she asked, knowing he was at work. She was also wondering what kind of interrogation he was going through.

"It's fine. The usual. And your ex-husband greeted me with rapid-fire questioning on my vacation. It was a good welcome-back greeting." She laughed, just imagining Derek at his most incorrigible.

"And what did you tell him?" She was slightly nervous about his answer. It's not that she wanted to keep their relationship a secret. She just wanted it to be a secret kept from Derek. And most of the other hospital employees.

"That I went to the coast for some sun." She should have known that he would be discreet. It was in his personality to be discreet. He was not one for gossip and preferred that his own life be kept out of the rumor mills; this she knew.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Anything big on the schedule for today?"

"No surgeries today. I'm just easing back into things. It's pretty fast paced here, no time for long lunches and gossip, you know." He chuckled and Addison sat back, enjoying the sound.

"I bet you just wish you worked at a private practice. Then you _could_ enjoy those long lunches and gossip."

"You got me. I would like nothing more than to be in Los Angeles right now, sitting in an office eating a relaxing meal with a certain neo-natal surgeon." She sighed, reveling in the picture that he painted. "Which is actually true, no sarcasm intended."

"I miss you," she said plaintively, not masking her emotion at all. "Violet and Naomi miss you, too. And Violet never did get the hair sample." She knew she was making the situation harder for both of them. She cleared her throat. "I've got a patient coming in soon, so I'll have to talk to you later, Preston," she said.

"Good-bye, Addison." She shut her phone and allowed herself a few moments of nostalgic wallowing before pulling herself together to meet with her patient.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that it was all right, and that if it wasn't, you can move past it and keep reading…we're almost to the finish line. Thanks for sticking with me.**


	13. If You Say

**A/N: Sorry about the delay in getting this up, but I suddenly developed a social life and was out of my house most of the time. And I'm thinking that the cat that hates me offers inspiration and the fact that I only dealt with her once this week (and that she no longer seems to hate me) is a factor in how long this took me to write. And…that's enough of that, so I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Addison had a cell phone. She rarely used it. Technology left her bemused and more than a little frustrated. She'd had Preston program his phone number in before he left because she was ninety percent sure that she had no idea what she was doing. Most people used the good old-fashioned landline telephone if they wanted to reach her. It was kind of nice that way because now whenever her cell phone rang, she was pretty confident that Preston would be on the other end.

They had begun scheduling phone dates. It had started off as a weekly thing, then slipped into bi-weekly, and now it was pretty much a nightly affair.

Their first conversation had been full of sappy clichés and long silences where they were trying to avoid anything that would make the distance seem farther. It was understood that they would not discuss missing each other or visiting. Surgeons had few vacations and Preston had used up his. On the one and only occasion where he had suggested that Addison come for a visit, he had been treated to a long, involved monologue detailing all the things that could potentially go wrong if she went to Seattle. Addison had clearly put a lot of thought into this, judging by the many scenarios in which Seattle Grace employees would come across them while they were out on the town.

"You could always spend the entirety of your trip in my apartment. Preferably naked," he had offered, but she had laughingly declined.

"I know my scenarios are lacking in plausibility," she had explained, "but with our lives up to this point, it seems like anything could happen."

He conceded on that point, but still dubbed her paranoid and ridiculous. After that, there was no more mention of Addison flying out to Seattle.

Their phone conversations had rules. They were mutually agreed upon and only put in place after the fact. Incidents would occur and they would realize that, in order to continue happily, it would have to never be talked of or done again.

Rule number one was no phone sex. They had tried it once after Addison had joking said that she "needed some and needed some right now." Preston was never one to decline a lady's request, so they had made an attempt. And it had been awkward and uncomfortable and fulfilled neither of them, especially after they had experienced the real thing.

Rule number two was no bashing of the exes. Addison had made a flippant remark about "Yang's cold and unfeeling personality" and Preston had retaliated by calling Karev and selfish and arrogant mini-Sloan. Both felt stings at the digs at their most recent break-ups (although Addison bitterly wondered if it counted as a break-up if you were never really boyfriend/girlfriend to begin with) even though neither harbored feelings for them.

Rule number three was that one could never put the other on hold. That rule had been instated after Preston (it had to have been Preston – the last time Addison had tried to put some on hold, she had succeeded in hanging up on both parties) had gotten a call from Bill, his best friend, and had let Addison sit on hold for fifteen minutes before she hung up and then left an angry message on his answering machine.

Rule number four was that they couldn't hang up on each other. They had conflicting viewpoints in some matters and Addison could get quite heated as they debated. Preston had found it quite a turn-on, but when her told her that, he found he was left listening to a dial tone.

Rule number five was that they could only have sexually suggestive conversations on days when they didn't have to go to work. They had been having a heated conversation of a different sort when Preston had been paged from the on-call room and had had to delay coming in until after he had taken a cold shower throughout which he thought about old nuns and ruptured spleens. Addison had been amused even if Preston hadn't.

Rule number six was that Addison couldn't set the phone down while cooking. Preston had taken to walking her through making a few dishes starting from pasta and working their way up. The last time he had been giving her instructions, she had set the phone down to do something and all Preston heard was the sound of something catching on fire and a shriek. When Addison had recovered, he learned that she had almost completely singed off her eyebrows and that the Cajun chicken was now a lump of charcoal. He had told her sternly that she was not allowed to set the phone down anymore so that something like that would never happen again. "I'm a surgeon," she had said, "I can do this." "Your eyebrows," he told her, "say otherwise."

---

Addison found herself counting down to the time when her phone would ring and she would hear his voice on the other end. She felt that if she pressed her ear against the phone even harder, it would somehow bring him closer to her. She knew it was slightly irrational to refuse to go to Seattle but the last thing she wanted was for their lives to be once again subject to the nurse's gossip mongering.

With that aside, she greatly enjoyed their conversations. No longer were there long pauses where they tried to figure out whether or not the other one was flirting with them. It was a safe bet that they were always flirting.

Addison missed the feeling of dating. She wanted to dress up and go out to dinner and be flirted with in person. She wanted to feel that burst of excitement when his leg would accidentally brush against hers or the electricity through her fingers as they drifted across his hand. She didn't know the next time she would be able to do that. Between conversations she seriously considered taking a trip to Seattle. After a certain point, she just couldn't stand how long it had been since she had last seen Preston.

"What if I just came up for the weekend?" she asked, more than a little nervously. Seattle seemed like a distant and frightening city now, but the prospect of seeing Preston made the idea a little less scary.

Preston tried to sound indifferent because he didn't know how for sure this suggestion was. "It would be a good weekend. And we could do that naked in my apartment thing."

Addison laughed, albeit a little timidly. "Maybe…maybe in a few weekends, I'll fly up there."

---

A few weekends passed and sure enough, Addison did fly up to Seattle. When Addison saw Preston casually waiting by the baggage claim with his hands resting in his pockets, she paused for a moment just to take him in. Then he turned and saw her, and they practically flew into each other's arms. Addison couldn't remember a better reunion. Passers-by didn't seem to be able to decide whether to look disgusted or give in to their jealousy.

A good part of the weekend was spent with Addison naked in Preston's apartment, but some of it was spent out in public, and while Addison was extremely paranoid, Preston holding her hand helped assuage some of her fear. They stayed away from the hospital and anywhere that people from Seattle Grace might show up. They enjoyed a fancy dinner in which Addison did get to dress up and Preston allowed his knees to touch hers whenever he leaned forward and she let her hand graze his as she reached for the bread. As wonderful as the weekend was, it did make it even harder for her to go back to Los Angeles without him. Their good-bye at the airport was less painful than when he had driven away from him, but it was still excruciating for her to enter the security line and watch him turn around and walk back to his car.

Addison got on the plane and felt extremely grateful that no one from her past had seen her the entire weekend. She settled into her seat and closed her eyes, trying to think of anything that would keep her mind off of Preston Burke.

As soon as the plane landed, she called him, careful to avoid any mention of how she missed him already.

"I told you that we would be safe from the prying eyes of Seattle Grace," he said, the humor evident in his voice.

"Who knows what would have happened if we had left your apartment more than once," she answered jovially.

"Which is why I thought it would be the best plan to not leave at all, but you seemed insistent on eating food."

"Well _you_ seemed quite insistent on doing activities that required sustenance," she answered with a laugh. "Now I have to get home, but I assume that we'll talk later tonight."

"Of course. You should probably do some grocery shopping, too, because I found a new recipe to try." She heard him flipping through something.

"Oh, Preston. My eyebrows just grew back," she said, touching them with a slight grimace.

"It'll be fine if you just keep the phone pressed to your ear the entire time. That's why we made the rule. If you put it down, disaster will strike. That's how your chicken exploded the first time."

"It did not explode! The _burner_ exploded. The chicken was fine."

"Until it turned into something that you could grill with."

Addison tried to be offended, but couldn't muster anything close to indignation. Instead they said their good-byes and Addison went home.

Addison had never before thought that she would be one of those women who would wait by their phone, but she hadn't thought that she'd be in a relationship with a man like Preston Burke. And so she waited for him to call.

**A/N: So there you have it, I hope it satisfied all of your Burke/Addison needs. Have a wonderful day!**


	14. I Could Be Anything

**A/N: Here it is, the last chapter. Thank you all so much for indulging my love of Burke/Addison. **

The day after Addison left, Preston spent a good deal of time in the maternity ward watching the babies. Alex Karev shot him several questioning glances whenever they were in close proximity, but since Preston had become involved with Addison, he couldn't help but feel a little bit of enmity towards the former intern.

"Why the sudden interest in babies?" Shepherd asked, catching Preston while he was eating lunch.

"A friend just clued me in their ability to lift one's spirits," he replied, hoping that the fact that he hadn't looked up from his magazine would clue Shepherd into the fact that he wasn't interested in conversation.

"What friend? And why do you need your spirits lifted?" Derek either couldn't take the hint or didn't want to, because he pulled out the empty chair next to Preston and seated himself in it.

"I'm not entirely sure that's any of your business." Preston flipped the page and did his best to sound both distracted and bored.

"We're friends," Shepherd said, and Preston's head shot up at that.

"No, no we are not friends." Preston found that the feeling of enmity also extended to Addison's ex-husband.

"Well, we used to be. So why are you out of sorts?" Shepherd and progressed to his cheekiest, most pleased with himself state and Preston wasn't quite sure he could handle it.

"I am missing my friend. She came to visit this past weekend and now she is gone. Please let me eat my lunch!" Preston practically exploded the last bit, causing Shepherd to shy a bit. He felt that any piece of information would satisfy Shepherd and that he would leave.

"Well all right, then," Shepherd said, but didn't leave and merely started to eat his own lunch. Preston sighed and resigned himself to a meal with the neurosurgeon.

---

"Come over for dinner," Addison said, leaning against the counter in the break room, digging through her lunch sack.

"And what would we be eating?" Naomi asked, flashing a skeptical look in Violet's direction.

"Chicken and pasta." Addison took a large bite out of her peach.

"You know how to cook pasta and chicken?" Naomi looked quite disbelieving.

"Preston taught me."  
"Is that what you did last weekend? I expected more out of you, Addison." Addison responded to Naomi's statement with a mock embarrassed shrug and a smirk.

"Or did you bring him back with you and are now keeping him locked in your house? Because I would." Violet ate a bite of salad, clearly contemplating what it would be like to have Preston in her house.

"Every week or so, he teaches me a new recipe over the phone. It's like Rachael Ray but not nearly as annoying."

"What is?" Cooper asked, walking in and heading towards the refrigerator.

"Preston Burke's Phone Cooking 101," Violet answered, a little bit of dressing dribbling out of her mouth and she wiped it away with an embarrassed look at Cooper.

"That's what your phone conversations consist of? Cooking? I would have expected more of you, Addison," Cooper said, with a suggestive hint in his voice so they would all know what he was referring to.

"Just because it's something _you_ enjoy, Cooper, does not mean we all can," Violet replied, rolling her eyes and Cooper muttered something about 'at least he didn't have dressing all over his face.'

"Or want to," Naomi added and Addison made noises of agreement emphatically through her mouthful of fruit.

"It's one of our rules," she said once she had swallowed.

"Rules?" Cooper looked a little doubtful. "You have rules?"

"Yes, we have rules. Now are you going to come over for dinner or not?" she asked, hurriedly trying to change the subject.

"If we come, will you tell us these…rules?" Naomi added a low seductive tone to her question.

Addison shrugged with a grin. "Just come. I could use the company."

"You must be desperate, if you're inviting us. Those phone conversations with Preston not doing it for you?" Cooper had begun eating his own sandwich rather sloppily, which caused Violet to make faces of disgust.

"Maybe if you didn't have so many rules," Violet offered.

"Hah. Okay, I have to go now. Tomorrow night. It will be delicious. And if it's not, you all can laugh at me and I've got enough alcohol to make up for it." With that, she went back to her office, throwing away the peach pit as she exited.

---

Addison sat on her couch, cell phone in hand, waiting for Preston to call. When it did finally ring in her hand, she almost dropped it out of surprise. "Hi," she breathed softly into the phone and snuggled into the couch, settling in for a good long conversation.

"Addison, hello. How was your day?" He, too, was settling into his couch, but he had more on his mind than a friendly chat.

"Oh, it was a good day. I invited everyone over for dinner tomorrow night. I thought I'd try the chicken penne alla vodka that you taught me a while back. I've made it successfully twice without your phone supervision." She stretched slightly and wiggled into the couch cushions.

"And how many times unsuccessfully?"  
"Three, but that's not important." Sometimes she was grateful for the telephone because he never witnessed her girlish blushing. "How was _your_ day?"

Normally Preston would have begun telling her about the patients he had seen or the surgeries that he had performed, but today wasn't one of those days. "I had to have lunch with Shepherd. It wasn't too bad," he said after Addison made a sympathetic noise. "He was just curious about you."

"About me? Why, what does he know?" Addison sat up straight, her heart pounding just a little.

"Not _you_ you, just my friend who came to visit you. Although it would be nice to share your identity. People are starting to think I'm making you up." Preston had almost reached the intended crux of the conversation. "I know you don't want either of us to become fodder for the rumor mill, but I want to have an actual relationship. Being gossiped about is nothing compared to finally actually being able to tell people that I've got Addison Montgomery as a girlfriend."

"You think that I don't wish it could be that simple? Preston, there's still the whole issue of the states in between us. It's not a real relationship even if you do call a meeting of the Addison's Ex-Lovers Club and announce that you too have slept with me." She found herself raising her voice, her ire rising.

"Well, if I did that, could I work in how you like me the best?" He couldn't resist a injecting a little humor into the conversation that had taken a turn for the dramatic.

"Preston you can tell them all that you are the best I've ever had, but that really doesn't change anything. I wish that we _could_ have a real relationship, one where you come home and find me curled up in my sweats reading, or I'll walk into the smell of you cooking me dinner." She did think about those things, as implausible as they might be, with Preston. She wanted more.

"You know I can't leave Seattle." The words were followed by a long silence.

"I can't go back to Seattle," Addison said finally.

"We've danced around this issue before. We both want something more but neither of us is willing to give it. I don't want just a weekend every now and then." Preston knew where it was heading and didn't know if he had the courage to follow through.

"Neither do I, but what else can we do?"

"Addison…," he trailed off, leaving her active brain to fill in his meaning.

"Yes, that is an option, Preston, but then there aren't _any_ weekends at all," she said, sounding as though she had just contracted a serious head cold.

"But then there's the possibility of us getting what we want, even if it's not from each other," he said softly.

Addison was silent. She didn't have anything to say. She knew that what she wanted was Preston, but he seemed to feel as though she was interchangeable. When she found words, she told him as much.

"Addison, that's not what I mean at all. I just mean that we both want something but that I'm not willing to move to Los Angeles and you can't come back to Seattle. I want us to be happy, Addison." He could feel his emotions coming to a head and didn't think he could bear it.

She sniffled slightly. "Is it okay if I'm not happy for a little while? Or a long while?"

"As long as it's okay that I won't be either."

"Good-bye…I guess," Addison said quietly, biting her lip, keeping the flood of tears at bay until she was able to cry without him hearing.

"Good-bye, Addison," he said, and she heard a moist-sounding breath, the click of the phone being hung up, and silence. She almost couldn't believe what had happened, but the fact that he didn't immediately call back to tell her he was joking, that it was a mistake, left her sure that it was real.

Just as when he left Los Angeles, she stayed frozen for quite some time. When she finally eased herself from the couch, she went not upstairs to her own bedroom, but to the guest room. She hadn't washed the sheets since Preston's visit. She climbed into the bed, hugged the pillow to herself and slept there, her phone clutched in one hand.

---

Preston allowed himself to wallow. He allowed himself to feel regret. He pulled on the Tulane sweatshirt that Addison had worn around his apartment and spent the night lying wide awake on his bed, feeling the crushing weight of doubt and disappointment. He missed her.

**A/N Again: Don't hate me too much. Please just find it in your heart to read the epilogue instead of throwing heavy objects at me.**


	15. A Sort Of Epilogue

A few months had passed and Preston was still miserable. Even though he had ended things with Addison, he still found himself searching for hospitals in the Los Angeles area. He caught himself absentmindedly dialing her phone number when he thought of something to tell her. He spent a great deal of time around the NICU, pretending that the current neonatal surgeon was not an older, coarse woman but a tall, elegant redhead. Karev had approached him once saying, "It's hard not to miss her." Preston had looked at him differently after that, seeing the hidden kindness that Alex possessed, something Addison had fervently tried to convince him existed. He had gruffly replied, "Yes, yes it is," and had left in a hurry, not wanting to engage in a conversation about the woman he loved with the man stupid enough to let her go. Not that Preston hadn't done the very same thing.

Preston appreciated Karev's candor, for if he suspected anything, he kept his mouth shut.

Shepherd even noticed a change in the cardiothoracic surgeon's demeanor. "I know you don't like me, Preston – yes, I'm saying your first name, deal with it, - but I know something's wrong. What is it?"

At that moment, Preston decided to forgo secrecy, to stop hiding the fact that he was in love with Addison. "It's your ex-wife," he said.

"What's she done now? I though that if she left Seattle, she'd stop ruining people's lives." Preston found his irritation at Shepherd rising to new levels.

"She didn't ruin my life. She's…she's the way I spent my week of vacation, she's the one who came to visit me that weekend a few months ago."  
Shepherd looked slightly stunned, his mouth open slightly and Preston found he enjoyed the way Shepherd looked when he was speechless. "Well, what's wrong with that?"

And against his better judgment, Preston found himself launching into the entire story. When he had finished, he leaned back in his chair and opened his hands as if asking for suggestions.

"You're an idiot," Derek said. "An idiot. Mark Sloan moved across the country and she didn't even love him. Idiot." He pushed his chair away and left Preston thoroughly flummoxed.

---

Addison sat idly flipping though the channels on her television, not really watching, when her cell phone rang. It never rang any more. She walked towards it and reached for it tremblingly, flipping it open with a shaking hand.

"Addison, hello. I'm hoping your invitation to move in still stands."

She sucked in her breath at the sound of his voice, a sound she hadn't heard in months, and almost had to sit down. She steadied herself on the counter. "Of-of course it is."

"Good. I'm on my way. And I expect a warm meal when I arrive." She allowed herself a small smile at that remark.

"Wh-what have I told you about talking on your cell phone while driving?"

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you have it. It's all over. I'm really incredibly grateful to all readers and all reviewers. Thanks for reading.**


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